Days like a Carnival I feel


And when its good its great
And when it sings its sung
The carnival man swirls his memory stick
While cherubs suck their thumbs

It’s a rollercoaster out there
It’s a rollercoaster in here
I left my coins in my pocket
And now upside down I see
The gold, the silver fling and flung

It’s in throat of the white-masked clowns
Its on the walls of the giant slide
The static-scratchy feeling
On the white goose bumps of mine

And when it aches it amputates
And when it stings its stung
The nightmare wanders down memory lane
stalking tshirted crowds of old and young

Its underground and up the walls
Its underground and earth and floors
On the ghost train they touched my face
Those curled nailed claws
I clawed my way out to daylight

Its in my heart pressed so raw
Its in the crooked cavity of my spine
The words are invisable tiny atoms
flying here and going nowhere
like ferris wheel stuck forever in cement

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Filed under life, poetry, writing

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