Clutching at straws

We sit together
Whilst all around
The crackling heat
The dry parched ground
Such bad theatre
No dialogue
The final curtain
Perhaps the dog
And the primates cower
The Indigenous too
The tragedy
Is coming true

Impersonating
The acrobat
The dancing flames
Where we are at
Histrionics
From afar
Blood and thunder
We all star
In our own end
as the troubadour
We take the limelight
And know for sure
The AMAZONS tears
Of course we hear
A standing ovation
And now shared fear