A little poem I wrote on my break at work today.
There's a man with a cart who is
Rolling out pretzels.
The long coils of dough pile around him
Like the entrails of butchered lambs
And carousel horses that don't go 'round so merrily anymore.
There's a man with a booth who is
Little lives for children to play God
He charges 25 cents a try
And wins either way 'cause the fish are barely worth a nickel.
And there's men and women and children
Gnawing on fried dough and candy apples
Like dogs with pig's ears
Or more like hyenas crunching and devouring a lion's bones.
And there's me and you and some other folks
Siamese twins and hairy beasts and psychos
Watching the real sideshow unfold
Looking out and seeing the world, distorted and horrifying
Like an image in a funhouse mirror.
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