The circus used to come through town.

Every year we’d lose a few rough dreamers to the big top and carney stalls.

But now — everywhere’s a circus. 



An endless ratty tent; the new atmosphere. The din of half meant, overlapping “step right ups” and a general feeling of complicity with the ubiquity of broken animals and rigged games. 



But this is really unfair and actually untrue. A circus can’t be everywhere. A circus exists in difference and in a kind of defiance (not necessarily good or bad).  



So, all said for effect then?

No, and kinda. Just wanted to create a dimension (or trace) onto what we really want to say.

Which is?

We are a rough dreamer who ran away with the library when it came through town. 

Are you trying to be funny?

Why? Was it funny?