Carny
The Ferris wheel spins in the night sky
like the flywheel of the universe.
He sports a weird tan from countless
hours of exposure to neon suns.
The soles of his shoes are worn thin,
exuding from their cracks the redolence
of popcorn and cotton candy. His face
is the creased leather of a purse
of the poor. Fluent in the language
of thrills and the lure of stuffed animals,
he cocks his mouth, clamps his Camel
in the vise of his lips, and with the sound
of air spewed from a stretched balloon,
manages his irresistible,
“How ‘bout another try?”
Larry D. Thomas
Posted over on Right Hand Pointing
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