Showstopper. We struck it lucky on our last Las Vegas trip, There we saw an historic bit of showmanship, From our front row seat at Siegfried and Roy's We saw a Grand finale from those two old boys. They've entertained us all for untold years... So, now a touch less boyish than first appears; Note the lush leonine manes of layered dyed hair And those fixed faces, half botox, half Tupperware. As the big cats prowled their cages Roy rattled on, much as he's done for ages, The tigers bared their teeth, growling loudly 'Pussy cats in my hands' Roy thought proudly. I wonder, did Roy take his routine too lightly, pray? Perhaps the tiger wasn't feeling too bright that day? Call it overfamiliarity, call it a catastrophic oversight Whatever, Roy got a deep insight into a tigers underbite. After thousands of shows without an accident Into retirement, with wounded pride they went, The Mirage's management terminated their run Just because Roy entertained a bit of armless fun.
This tasteless offering was going to be for a short poetry prompt but it kinda sorta took on a larger life of its own. Perhaps, as Siegfried and Roy found, sometimes you can’t rein things in, it all starts to get away on us and before you know it everything’s running uncontrollably amok.