The Romanies, Romanians and Czech acrobats,
in Pegasos, Karosas and rusted Fiáts,
arrive on the outskirts in the pale twilight,
ready for opening the following night.
The canvas goes up and they circle the wagons;
the Tattooed Lady feeds komodo dragons.
She's in love with Thrombo, the World's Strongest Man
- they steal kisses by moonlight behind Caravella's van.
Caravella peers into a scrying ball,
she sees the future - that's nothing at all.
The lions feed nightly - on the locals' goats,
and the bareback horses - on stolen oats.
Casimir flat-irons the faded red felt,
crippled Ludmilla fits the safety belt -
while her daughter Nadja eyes the flying trapeze,
her father looks hotly at her uncovered knees.
Luna looks down on the rude caravan:
“the gadjo will come and we'll earn what we can.”

Comments
rjnewlyn | May 27, 2010 - 22:49
Bygone days I guess. I have distant memories of something like this that I'm not sure are really true or not. So it resonates.
insertponceyfre... | June 5, 2011 - 20:35
I don't think it's a bygone thing Rob - this still happens where I live. (Except for the lions I hope - I only live about 200 yards from where they set up camp)