Carnivale

The beautiful people's corpses being puppeted, a reenactment for the rich powdered players whom's price is of ribs and rent. East LA's garbage, slops raining down on me, animals, penny-takers. A side-show cage amongst the many others. The announcer blares on the megaphone:  
 
"Ladies and GentleMEN! Please, may I have your attention? Today we have a special treat, a marvelous true sight to be seen by YOUR eyes only."  
 
He grins at the rich, fragily incestuous crowd and laughs. Not even the pasty white could cover the alcoholic blush that lurched across his complexion.  
 
"A sight to behold! Truly! Don't be frightened, it's really a pleasure." He winks across the eager, gathering mass at a robust woman, a cherry red corset set to the bursting point about her belly. The sun shone through the holes in her parasol, leaving dust to envy.  
 
"An event to remember! Only a quid a peek! A quid is all you, yes you, need to see the amazement and awe of......." all at once, with the announcer they inhaled and held it, as though their petticoats would fall to shreds if not inflated, "HUMANS!"  
 
The women screamed, two fainted dead away. The men laughed heartily at the gall this man had. HUMANS? Ha.  
 
"Oh, yes yes yes, don't doubt it, dearies!" He waddled over to the candy-stripe curtains and stuck his head in. A faint argument ensued behind the stripes and he turned back giddily to the eavesdropping people.  
 
"Once in a lifetime! Pay up now and regret it lat-er, you only live twice!" He bounced about the stage and warbled on to any patron that would listen. Little Bit, a young scruffy boy weaved through the crowd accepting quids left and right in a bowler hat. He seemed a bit tipsy as he hiccuped "Thanks, love." to an older gentleman by the name of Danson.  
 
With a loud snap the spotlight went on like a target on the megaphoned man in center-stage.  
 
"Prepare." He sinisterly whispered, he tipped his top-hat and bowed down, then he just disappeared.  
 
The crowd huddled in fear and the women shook to fight the chill that suddenly began.  
 
The curtain rings whistled across their rod without help, it seemed, and before them were an unmistakable phenomenon, a man and a woman.  
 
The couple, together, rooted in place. Her coiled and curled bleached-blonde hair, lost in places, spaces underground. His suit, dirt patched, holes and lead ladened, glory laid down.  
 
Her arms, upraised, fingers strumming along loose tendons, her corset in ribbons, uncovered bones, lust, and bones.  
 
Together, in tune, together, showing peers what love was for an instinctive primitive species such as man - a suicide, an asassination, a pleading, a giving, a taking asunder, a click, a loose tendril, a mishap, a recurring death, an affair.  
 
Fluid, natural, longing caresses, against bones, against lust, against bones.