ManicDDaily

Carnie-val

The victim of a freak
accident there, I don’t much care
for a fun fair, carnival–anywhere
with a ride that whirls and rockets
astride grease-black blur-blink sockets.  Things–
meaning me (parts of)–get caught in such
pockets, which do not
stay shut, and
in the midst of their whipped
whizz, the divide
between the wall-eyed
guy who, biceps slack-smudged, leans
against the gears
and the person who trusts that their
particular life will be all-good, all-safe, all-
sunlit,
rips away, victim
of a freak accident,
and I am morphed from sleek-
luck kid to human marked by strange
tight-ropey wounds that may be covered
by a wrap-around of hair or sleeve,
make-up or tattoo, but still,
it’s now just me and you, babe,
me and you.

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The above is my offering for dVerse Poets Pub Poetics prompt hosted by the wonderful Claudia Schoenfeld about fun fairs.   A strange poem, I know. I was, in fact, injured at such a place many years ago, so it’s a bit hard for me to look at them with a open mind!  But for all kinds of poems prompted by the subject, check out dVerse. 

And have a wonderful weekend.