the fair

Observe the random protocol
behind these glass playthings
I spy

the clowns
with their meticulously painted faces
designed to fool
the cunning children
their cheeks dusted with cheap rouge
their eyes:
two wholes, black, gaping.

the acrobats are well-rehearsed with their stunts
wearing the skintight costumes
distort their form
with little effort, leaving nothing
to the imagination
flying from one invisible stop
to the next
parabolic arcs each telling a different tale

stepping up to the podium were
the fireaters
whose uncommon practices
shock
astound
amaze
accompanied by imminent danger, they lived by the second
The audience applaud
the resonance is deafening

last but not least
the circusmaster announces,
THE MAGICIAN!
whose prowess of the unknown
is tantalising
he is the flame that draws the moths to their defeat
He fascinates every man, woman and child
Clothed in a bejewelled outfit.

The people
are glued to their seats
The light sears their eyes, but no one notices
Hushed sounds, they stare mesmorised
Yet they cannot understand the mystery behind his tricks.
Are they the tricked, or is he the trick?
The question goes unanswered

...the curtains drop
another evening
has come to a conclusion
Murmurs and mumbles
fills the auditorium
as the people shuffle towards the glowing exits
In the darkness
behind the red drapes
I sense his toothy grin
his malicious, twisted smile
covered by an immaculately gloved hand
the dull clang of coins
deposited into many pockets

At that moment, I realise
the dark carnival
has only just begun