the Ferris Wheel spins as if piloted
by a fat and spoiled hamster
lazily turning circles in the sky
as you take my hand and we stroll
down the boardwalk
past future sufferers of dyspepsia
scarfing down their devil dogs
and funnel cakes,
and we, oblivious to all but ourselves
leave behind
the screams from the rollercoaster
and the shouts of the fun house barker
the demanding children
and the weary parents
the hucksters and the shills
in a world alone
with the stars and the waves
and a bag of cotton candy
made for two
No comments:
Post a Comment