Club Handy
by Michael Doyle

Every showman is a trickster
A sophisticated and tragically hipster
Leaving the girls with smiles on their faces
Moving them deeply with his traces

It's a carnival of scam
Putting on the ritualistic glam
With bated breath ready to fly
As heartbreak paints the sky

Rivers of money begin to flow
It's on with the monkeys in the show
Whispers of the day, tell their tale
Merchandising every sort of sell

Playing riffs with hopeful high class
Howling at the colonel's shady past
Shaken hips that move and mesmerize
The danger sizzles before mama's eyes

God given gifts so misunderstood
Life on the road is just no good
Everyone says who the king should be
Club Handy cries its blues, dirty and gritty

(c) September 5, 2022  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved