A Carnival

Roll up, roll up.

Our peep show is the best in the Westminster:

naked lies, bare-faced, barefooted

and everything between.

Madam Priti’s beard

is not for pulling, Sir, glue is expensive

dear, costly and in short supply

thanks to Madame Zaza.

We foretold it.

Our balls are crystal and used for prediction,

untruths, beliefs and policy

by The Greatest Showoff!

The Great Rishi

will twist and bend, a genius contortionist

lithe, supple, and impossible

in his mad accounting.

Come one, come all:

each member here is a rakish roustabout,

paid, greedy and easily bribed

by loyal customers.

Buy one, buy two!

The numbers on the Big-Six Wheel come up nightly,

fixed all ways and sleazily spun,

the House wins, forever.

Go home! Go home!

Our tent’s closed until next time in Babylon,

burned, burning and blamelessly wrong:

bequeathing you the ashes.