the circus is in town

the circus

is in town, minus

the lions

held back by a chair

and a whip

by a mustachioed man.

there's no elephants

anymore

ridden in by

the sequined girl

high in the saddle.

but 

they still have all

the clowns.

there's no bearded lady

anymore,

no trapeze artists

flying

through the air,

no little people stuffed

into a car,

no starving artist,

down to

bones in

his cage,

or the fat man

smoking

his cigar,

too big to be weighed.

there's no disfigured

fellow

making the children

gasp

with his twisted face,

melted like

a grotesque mask,

there's no Siamese twins

conjoined at the hip,

each head

wearing a hat.

no one gets shot

out of a cannon

anymore.

but there's a few rides,

going soft and slow

around and around,

there's peanuts

and cotton candy too,

a few games,

and a fun

house with mirrors

and a slanted floor.

yes,

the circus is in town,

and they still have all

the clowns.

but it's less fun

now,

mostly a bore.