Urban Circus

 
 
 
 
 
Bright lights extend beyond the scope of sight.
Dramas play out against 
    bold traffic’s blare.
A dizzy sense of power pervades the night.
Caught up in spotlight 
        fraught with public glare,
we myriad performers act out in bounds — 
a circus squared by concrete, bricks and glass.
The streets, their high tech urban sounds
singing electric chorus to the mass,
awaken yearnings, fantasies released;
new projects and old lusts see flight.
 
But, bright lights do not the total story tell.
A city’s underside is lit in shame.
When daylight’s order sounds its evening knell
chaos imps devise a different game.
To disregard these jousts of urban war
would not do justice to subservient pain,
designated winning/losing scores.
Where many lust for wealth that few may gain
poverty seldom rests in leisured peace.
Shell-shocked youth roam their nights in hell.
 
A merry trickster prances through the crowds,
releasing smiles, enjoining folk to dance,
exuding laughter that dispels all clouds,
turns the mood distinctly toward romance.
In low-lit cafes, strobe-lit discos, too,
twosomes stroke and flaunt their partners’ charms;
on garish streets and hidden alleys woo,
delighting in caressing lovers’ arms.
All daytime’s trials forgotten for this while, 
buried ‘neath lust’s crimson, silken shrouds
 
An act played out so many times before:
Young lovers meet in secret rendezvous.
They pledge their love along the river’s shore.
But, what!  A third’s been added to the two.
A jealous rival swears to end their tryst.
He comes prepared for battle with a knife.
And plunges with such vicious twist
to break a heart and end another’s life.
Turning to the maiden an evil smile,
he hears not what she dares implore.
 
Tomorrow’s headlines may retrace the tale.
And law’s swift retribution cage the cur.
But now it’s midnight in the jail
where scoundrels scheme of what they never were.
The street throngs laugh, in colorful array.
They have no thought of morning’s dreary chores.
They’ve many hours still ’til break of day.
Many hours to drink and woo and score.
Warm nights are made for madness and release
of lust from daylight’s cautious veil.
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