The Barker

Step right up! Step right up!

Ladies and Gentlemen,

come one come all,

you will be amazed.

You will come eager,

leave dazed.

Raise the edge of the curtain there.

Scared?

Look up at the tightrope walker's dance.

Come in, see the Siamese twins from France.

There's a snake charmer waiting behind that screen.

And, an awful scene

takes place in the lion tamer's room

at half past noon.

Step right up!

See the acrobat and the lady with three eyes?

And me, I've guessed your age, your weight, your lies.

I'll whisper them with hollow whistling sounds

while carnival lights spin round and round.

See the acrobat and the lady with three eyes?

The midgets pick pockets.

The man at the Ferris wheel has unkind designs.

The knife thrower's on the edge of his mind.

Step right up! Step right up!

Ladies and Gentlemen,

come one, come all!

You will be amazed!

You will come eager!

You will leave dazed.

Step right up!

The Midway Boss

What do you see

when you look too close?

What will you be

when you’ve had an overdose of fun?

One thing is certain.

The closing curtain

won’t make you forget.

All of the regret

in you is here.

All of the fear

and the ugliness too.

It’s true.

We are not all shadows.

We are not all dreams.

Though conjured in screams

of near-madness

and all kinds of badness

we are not just ghosts.

We are most

actual.

We are your darkness, your sorrow, your pain.

We see you again and again and again

in dreams and on the street.

We are a complete

nightmare.

The Magician

He was once the toast of England and France

the Great Conjurini!

There was even a dance

named for the way his assistant would sway

during a certain smoke and mirrors trick.

He became sick,

struck down mid-second-world-tour.

It didn't matter that he'd done it before.

All those cancelled shows

left his ratings rather low.

That's just the way it goes.

It was all the fault of a slender young girl.

She'd made his eyes roll and his toes curl.

She'd made him so ill he'd almost gone blind

but looking back, he didn't so much mind.

It had just been that good.

Everyone said he should

find a new gimmick and burst forth anew.

They claimed it wasn't just that he knew

the secrets of magic and sleight of hand

but rather the way to trick any woman or man

into believing whatever he chose.

Everyone knows

that most of what happens is of his design.

That's why he's always on the sidelines

whenever something goes down.

Even the clowns

don't dare laugh

when he passes.

He refused everyone's advice.

He didn't listen, he didn't think twice

just went on being Conjurini.

He doesn't look like you should take him lightly.

He really is actually rather frightening,

though fiercely attractive.

It's almost psycho-active.

He can escape any trap devised.

He very much seems to have x-ray eyes.

He can disappear quick as a flash

and then even quicker appear back.

He sometimes flies through the air.

He’s sure to give you a terrible scare.

His Assistant exudes both wonder and fear

whenever he so much as ventures near.

It clearly isn't just the slicing in two

that makes her smiles so seldom and few.

No one really knows

much about the situation.

Or the nature of their relation.

Barker: No one has ever seen anything like him.

He has a gaze that could dim or brighten

the most skeptical crowd.

His voice is deep and loud.

His hands flash like carousel lights.

He seems to summon the very night

with his fingers.

His laugh lingers in a bone chilling way

long after he's gone away.

The Knife Thrower and His Wife

The Knife Throwers Wife: 

His eyes get dim and far away

he laughs like a small boy at play

and he winks and whispers to the knives

as if they were alive.

No one heard.

I soon stopped saying a word.

The Knife Thrower: 

I'd always joked and called her cat

because, I pointed out that

she clearly had at least 9 lives.

She used to close her eyes

each time I threw.

She knew

I'd miss one time;

the streamlined

arc of the blade would sink

before she had time to think.

She got used to it.

She usually wasn't hit.

But sometimes I drank

and the steely knives sank

just barely into wood over skin.

Then I'd do it again

and again

and again. 

Laughing at the spin

of half reckless knives, then

hurl another with abandon.

Everyone wondered if I'd planned it.

She'd been saying I wasn't right for weeks.

For weeks more she just wouldn't speak

at all. She'd flinch with each knife-fall.

She cringed when she heard the Barkers' call.

Barker: 

Step Right Up! Step Right Up!

See the Knife Thrower and his wife.

She rather convincingly looks like she fears for her life.

The Knife Thrower’s Wife: 

His vision bleared.

His thoughts got weird.

The Knife Thrower: 

I raised my arm

intending harm.

The Knife Thrower’s Wife: 

He lost his grip.

He slipped

past the edge of reason.

The Knife Thrower: 

It’s wife slicing season!

The Lady With Three Eyes

Even when I was young, children believed when I said

I had eyes in the back of my head.

But I don’t.

Just the one here - dead

center like the statues

in India.

It doesn't shut or cry.

No one knows why.

It doesn't see clearly

or nearly

as far. A dim star

set in skin pale and pitted

like the moon.

People are always tempted

to poke it.

I’ve tried hats

and things like that

to hide the eye

but it gets too dry

under cover - sad fact.

The fortune teller

is morbidly fascinated;

and is sure I can ward

off the evil eye and other charms

intending harm.

I would have been beautiful

So I’m told.

The Tightrope Walker

It's no use saying a word about it

I will not accept

the good sense of a net.

Even the Midway Boss pointed out

that while she saw what I was about,

she had serious doubts

I'd be more to her dead than alive.

I’m twenty-five.

Kind of old to be pulling such tricks.

In spite of the fact that I’m used to it

I simply don't have the skills.

If I don't at this point, I never will

be light as a feather or on my toes.

But I keep on taking an anything goes approach.

I never look afraid at all.

I leap across the high, thin line,

turning cartwheels all the time,

then flip backwards so quickly everyone says

it's a miracle I don't fall on my head.

Instead I somehow walk the line.

It's just a matter of time

before I lose my mind.

Have you ever felt your mind slip?

Ever almost taken a quick flip

over the edge of stable?

Were you able

to regain your balance?

Did your perception make allowance

for what it was losing fast?

And if it did, did it last?

The Sword Swallower

I ain’t never spoken,

never once, not one

word, frozen

and mute as a statue.

I’d stare right at you

with eyes that defied

you to question

my talent for expression.

“Was it the frog in his throat

he had meant to kill?”

Had some thing surprised

or otherwise

made me slip unawares?

The stares

were discouraged

but no one cared.

A crowd pressed close around

the gruesome scene.

Tightrope Walker: 

The sword swallower seemed

horrified.

His eyes

light-bulb wide,

his mouth a frozen gash,

his throat slashed,

like a samurai’s belly

after hari-kari.

The gore

was unimaginable.

No one knew

what he'd meant to do

but the result

was certain.

Curtains.