We're all puppets now

There’s a circus going on right here

magic to take you down the years.

 

It’s got all the animals you’d expect to see

performing tricks for free

but you know it’s not magic.

It’s just a trick you can’t work out

 

You know about the appalling conditions they live in

and how they’re taught to turn against their young

to ready them for trauma.

You’ve read all the horror stories

And heard all the rumours

but hey, your child pleaded to go

so you must endure the show.

 

It’s actually quite fun to watch

once the terror backstage is forgotten

but when the master unbuckles his whip

and the dancing girls disappear

your brain switches off

- all you can hear is the crack of the whip.

 

To distract yourself from the torment

you dwell on bills and appointments

the charities you endorse and the time you give

as the fallen lion jumps through burning hoops

and the brow-beaten apes walk the tightrope.

 

The master knows he now has your full attention

that the time has come for the final death-defying feat

the trick to end all tricks.

 

He asks you to stay completely quiet -

he has to concentrate all his powers

don’t you know -

and then, faking coming out of a trance

he asks for someone in the crowd

anyone

preferably a child

to help him complete the task.

 

You nudge your child’s arm in jest

but he’s not there

you look around and watch him

plodding down the aisle to join the master.

 

Your scream is met with greedy stares

from people who have paid good money

to witness awe and shock

while others think you’re part of the trick

or perhaps you’re just crazy.

 

Your cries die down to involuntary shaking

as your son moves forward  

and places his head inside the lion’s mouth.

Don’t whatever you do speak your mind now

this little lot can read you like a rattlesnake.

 

The crowd hold their breath

and one strange woman roars her approval

your heart is in your mouth where it belongs

and it’s easy to see that you’re all alone.

 

Your steely-eyed son returns a hero

ignores you

and everyone’s clapping but you.

 

When you leave the circus a wreck

you know you’ll always remember this day

that this was the day you realised

we’re all puppets now

and there’s not a thing

you can do to stop

the magic of the master.

 

By the time you get home

you’re just grateful for warmth and comfort.

 

You tell the husband with the deep black eyes

how brave his son was.

‘He put his head inside the mouth of a lion!’

but there’s no response

he’s still at work

figuring out how to perform magic.

 

Your son thinks you’re strange.