Carnivale Poem by Jean Renwick

Behind the glitter, the laughter, the make-up
Something lies bitter and bizarre
A cast of characters outside God’s creation.
Under the bright, wry smile of a low-slung moon
The circus tent billows;
Lurches and engulfs its contents.
Over-spirited performances which don’t ring true
With an acknowledged lack of ‘Spirit’ (godliness)
But it’s fast-paced with colour and rides and acrobats,
Animals, and children on a sugar-high.
What better place to succumb to human nature at its finest
To stare, scream and laugh, test the body’s limits and exalt the macabre –
It’s all so weird, so we all fit in! ...
Then the eerie after-the-show chiaroscuro seems to push
A shiver down the spine:
It’s not so fun anymore.
In the yellow-gold firelight of secrets, private spaces, dark desires
The circus tent billows;
Lurches in warning as guests flee into the sinister night.