when the lights go off

and the big top disappears

it’s midnight before the boys
break down the big top
pulling down lines and pulling up stakes
the mélange of magic noise
comes to a calm stop
the glamour and stardust now shallow and fake

and then in the echo
of calliope screaming
we scurry like cockroaches fleeing from light
behind us the faint glow
of townie-marks dreaming
shines fifteen miles then fades out of sight

our beds are just gloomy
cots as the night breaks up
after we set up the tent with its lies
for glitter and costumes
and five tons of makeup
only distract from the fright in our eyes