Arts
The ‘Bloody’ FringePushed to one side,We see the citySlide from out our hands,In annual separation;The wandering audienceOn their migration,Like Serengeti wildebeest,Driven on by instinct,Following, following,The stars, whileThe big cats lie,Waiting idly under trees,Before picking off the weak;Overhead the vultures glide,Lifting on the August airUntil they diveTo pick on the dried bonesOf anxious comedians;“Who are you for?”The hyena asks,But still they comeThe acrobats and clownsThe students and the brave,Throwing themselvesAgainst the wall of hope;“Leave us be”, we cry,And all too soon it does,Departing suddenly,With an embrace,A fleeing lover’s farewell;A Kiss - adieu;Until next year.