THE GREAT TENT SALE IS OVER

THE GREAT TENT SALE IS OVER

The great tent sale is over, wave goodbye to the auctioneer.
Say farewell to the unicorn and the rugged mountaineer.
They have all gone spinning across the spheres,
Somewhere out in the Milky Way,
Like some lonely vagrant year, like some weary, wasted day.

The great tent sale is over, bring down the lonesome canopy,
Yield to the strange cover of clouds that have silenced you and me.
Wave bye-bye to the man with one arm,
Who beguiled with his clever remarks and his charm.
And rode his unicycle over the moon,
He shan’t be back here anytime soon.

He has gone to the hinterlands somewhere far away.
Asleep in the land of poppies and psychedelic hay.
Ditto the double jointed fellow, the woman whose skin was a ghastly yellow.
Who fell victim to the drugs that shot through the needle,
Just like the midget who shot through the cannon,
Into the atmosphere, coming in for a landing.

The great tent sale is over, on to the next town,
With a brand new cast of characters that will not let you down.
The gap-toothed straw haired lanky lad
Who juggles sparklers and entertains.
The fearless loathsome hell of a hag,
Who does amazing things with pig brains.

The great tent sale is over, it’s back to school and back to work,
Or for those of us on a long, strange trip, it’s back to Planet Earth.
Say farewell to the painted ponies and the swirling carousel,
Leave your tarnished pennies in the bottom of the well.
And say a prayer for all of us in this freak show on this barren sod,
For there go you and there go I, but for the grace of God.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2011
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED