Dina & Dan Inspect the Circus

The big tent is set aflame within minutes, the outside sprayed with white gasoline to waterproof the surface and woosh its gone, the elephants skin sizzled off, their tired eyes praying to the flags that incinerate and disappear into the air to float, float, until it lights the tops of the trees, everything is one fire now at the circus, everything is on fire. When the clown drops from 1,000 feet in the air, drops in one sullen hush hush rush until they land and skin their foreheads, blood on their white gloves, blood in the sawdust below, a quick splay and sploosh, drips drips onto the side railing next to the children whose parents have purchased the light up swords from concession, the ones that make the children who do not have them jealous, if you have purchased the green and purple swords from concessions, put them in the air now! The blood on the tip of the plastic sword that stops lighting up after the kid bangs on the railing, bangs it and bangs it and now it is broken. The clown's head is splayed open. The Show Must Go On, he says into the crowd, his mouth filling, filling, spitting. The clown drops and splays his head as the tent is burning. The crowd does not react, files out slowly, files out one by one like soldiers.