The Monkey Circus

I miss my friends
From the golden arch circus,

Where hungry crowds witnessed us

Cavorting through hoop rings aflame

Under the deep-fried big-top trapeze

In record time.

Lunch, the tiger's roar,

Brought us together to defend

Against the onslaught of rushes

That trained us to be monkeys-

Frantic bananas at their stations

To pacify the crazed mob.

At dinner, the clowns derailed

In shenanigans at full moon

Birthday carousels behind the lobby,

Amplifying the unicycle gyres,

Decongesting our senses,

Making us free to breathe

A wild love into our crispy hearts.

We juggled the buns, 

Danced under kitchen lights,

Hollered maniacally like geeks

Serving ring masters and beasts

Remote from our team,

Never caring what they thought.

We were the real ones,

The ones who made them money,

Who slayed the endless back door traffic,

Who survived using every acrobatic antic,

We the forgotten freaks and immigrants,

We who built that place.