Trump

When I try to start a poem with,
“If I could only be an elephant,”
it ends with too much sadness
to begin.

Fierce love disrupted
through culling’s lethal game.

Circus crowds
with ooooos and ahhhhhs,
pay for elephant chains.

It’s over before it begins.

Humanity holds the trump card
yearning for cash and coins.

They win.

Ladies and Gentlemen!
In the center ring!

Brenda Warren 2014

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The Sideshow Gal

Slithering Sal stares up at heavy circus canvas, and swears she’ll kill that fucking dwarf for dragging her in from the wet. She wanted to succumb to the elements out there, where everything is not what it is here, in her miserable paralyzing lizard-girl life where for 50 cents you too can sneak a peek.

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This is my first Friday flash 55. Take a ride over to Mr. Knowitall for more 55 flash pieces.