the circus of the walking dead #240 verse:1

The psychopaths are in control,
we follow them like sheep,
but we have vengeance in our hearts,
and promises to keep.

The psychopaths are in control,
we follow them like sheep,
but we have vengeance in our hearts,
and promises to keep.

The circus clowns jump through the hoops,
(the tigers are extinct),
(though no one wearing tiger skins
admits the two are linked).

Women dressed as butterflies
ride horses painted blue,
chained to love’s continuum,
their dreams are coming true.

Underneath the glitter
is an underwire bra,
we all obey the gravity
of Newton’s second law.

They draw attention to themselves,
the better to be seen,
it’s hard to blend into the background
wearing neoprene.

We’re mesmerized by naked flesh,
we won’t pretend we’re not,
desire’s soft albino skin
replaces conscious thought.

The acrobats will not perform
without a safety net,
we complain, but for a dollar,
this is all you get.

The smell of popcorn fills the air,
we lick our fingers clean,
words slide sideways off your tongue,
but we know what you mean.

Virtue wears a human face,
it’s guilt that wears a mask,
whether we’re possessed or not
depends on who you ask.

The Circus of the Walking Dead
suspends our disbelief,
they violate their own commandments,
much to our relief.

Contortionists turn inside out,
their scarlet hearts revealed,
and though I know the secret codes,
my ruby lips are sealed.

The belly dancers raise the dead,
it’s what they’re born to do,
we’ll all be dancing with the devil
by the time they’re through.

The fire-eaters don’t inhale,
the smoke is thick and sweet,
even Satan’s frozen heart
is melting in the heat.

The television’s black and white,
the rabbit ears are bent,
every night we watch the man without a tongue

He waits behind the velvet curtain,
smoking cigarettes,
I tell myself that this is as
chaotic as it gets.

The tent folds up into a box,
by morning we’ll be gone,
we’re naked and invisible
without our faces on.

We navigate the labyrinth,
they tell me love is blind,
the man behind the curtain breaks my heart,
but I don’t mind.

My head is full of cotton candy,
bubbles and champagne,
there’s nothing so impossible to live without
as pain.

mt forest



"the circus of the walking dead" was a response to the prevailing political climate of the times.  I wish we could choose our leaders with a bit more common sense.  The text was inspired by Frost's 1923 poem "Stopping by woods on a snowy evening".  "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep".