deepundergroundpoetry.com
Life is Just Show Business
It's three a.m. again,
and the circus in my head
has not slowed.
It's in complete chaos.
Trapezes are breaking,
fake guns are smoking,
and knife throwers
are pinning dancers to the tent's beams.
The audience shrieks,
strapped to their chairs,
begging the ringmaster
to make the murder stop
as clowns lay waste
to the first few rows.
But the ringmaster
is just curled up in a ball,
in the middle of it all,
caressing a gun.
The safety's on,
he's not ready to shoot;
he's just exploring the possibilities.
and the circus in my head
has not slowed.
It's in complete chaos.
Trapezes are breaking,
fake guns are smoking,
and knife throwers
are pinning dancers to the tent's beams.
The audience shrieks,
strapped to their chairs,
begging the ringmaster
to make the murder stop
as clowns lay waste
to the first few rows.
But the ringmaster
is just curled up in a ball,
in the middle of it all,
caressing a gun.
The safety's on,
he's not ready to shoot;
he's just exploring the possibilities.
Published 15th Mar 2010
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15th Mar 2010 2:59am
As one who's experienced bouncing brain chemicals many times, I can relate. And it was also extremely entertaining...in a dark sort of way. I would add it to my reading list, if my reading list wouldn't have gone completely nust on me.
16th Mar 2010 4:21am
There, that's better...now that my reading list is restored, I have added this.
hiding in 19 days ago. but i found you anyway and i have to say, that last stanza, last line in particular knocked me. i would love to see more poetry of this quality here.
