The excitement, it was palpable,
the messages, subliminal–
as the show paraded through the streets.
New in town, as yet unknown,
their voices droned in monotone,
with subtle words of cunning and deceit.
They kept the restless crowd engaged,
enrapt with something new;
intrigued inside their mystery and mystique.
And then, it seems, as if on cue,
came the circus grand review
and so our curiosity was piqued.
The tigers were all snarling, locked inside their cages
while the elephants came lumbering up behind;
then the tarot readers, soothsayers and sages,
diviners of some future they’d define.
Acrobatic wonders, gravity defiers;
lovely ladies dressed to entertain,
a swallower of (s)words, a juggler of fire—
a dog and pony show, as promised in their flyer,
all smoke and mirrors cloaking their campaign.
Some of us stood up to leave, too many still remained
to watch the emcee turn into a clown;
his face ever-contorting, expressions alternating–
and so the show continues in this vein,
as he pulls out all the stops to shut us down.
So many sit in silence, they do not made a sound
reporters all were stifled where they stood;
diminished to profanity while watching the insanity
set in motion by the orange clown—
ever since the circus came to town.
© Ginny Brannan 2026
