Under The Big Top

Clowns, who doesn't see Isome darkness there?

      Under the Big Top

 

            The Clowns spoke with motionless lips

                            as they took the child's soul;

                            his self will...

            drawing him into

  the love of death.

            Warm, lying, cold hands;

                               grease paint...

                   flat shoes...

                                       sawdust.

                                 Things of evil.

             The clowns only nod

             as the boy falls lifeless.

             One more town,

             One more soul....