Day at the Office

The elephants have gone mad,
and who can blame them.
They are running through
the streets dragging their
handlers and small children
beneath their enormous feet,
they are fleeing the circus,
crushing everything in their
paths with jungle venom.
Enough with the tricks,
the clowns, the pointed sticks
banging against their grey hides,
the girls, like queens, in sequins,
riding atop, while the beasts march
in thunderous unison, their tails
entwined with trunks. Circling,
circling, never getting anywhere.
Now roar, now sit, now stand.
It's all fixed. Nothing more than
shelled peanuts in the end.
Humbled. There is only so much
they can take before rushing
the crowd, breaking the poles
and taking the tent down.