The big top
I got too close to the circus and it lost its charm.
Spied the tease of flesh between the fishnet,
the cheap spangles; the music’s blare;
grunting acrobats, exhausted clowns;
the pervasive beast-and-excrement smell,
the exaggerated theatrics, the sawdust’s filth –
and the glamour was gone forever.
I walked out between the roaring stands
onto a cold spring pasture;
took in the breeze,
a new moon, the countless stars
and have never again been tempted
by the big top’s threadbare glitter
and the empty pitches of the circus touts.
O child of God, once you see the truth of the lie
you can wring no joy from the greatest show on earth.
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