carnival

You are sitting
by the window
and that’s unusual
but only because
the curtains are
not there for once
and there is only
a shroud of smoke
that stands between
you and the circus
that passes by.
The townsfolk are
revelling for now.

There are elephants
from the land of
cherry-pie-cream
says the ringmaster
and you raise your eyebrows
because you’ve never
heard
of the land of cherry-cream-pie.

The trapeze artists are
ugly
and their sequined
dresses are borrowed
from the dying queen.
She has no use for them
anymore because she is wise
and waits only
for death
to kiss her
goodnight.

The bear is very happy
because
he is stoned
and the shimmering reflection
of the sun on your glasses
reminds him of the night
when the sky exploded
into bolts
of purple
and lime.

The jokers keep crying
so everyone can laugh.
They aren’t happy
because they’ve
always been sad.

When the notes of a requiem
blare from
the trumpets with diamonds on their sides
the girl with golden-brown hair
smiles her smile
while you puff away.

The children crowd
around the carnival trail
but are pushed away
by grown-ups looking for their fix.
They talk so very loudly
that you cover your ears,
look away for a while
and notice grey-green eyes
turn your way.

In the middle of chaos
and fanfare
and joy
your mind travels
back to the grey-green eyes,
again and again.

You hear the tragic
notes of gloom
that escape your old
school-teacher’s brain
but pay no heed
because she won’t
be alive much longer.


And so scribble
away, scribble away
your silly words
and your inarticulate prayers
for time is up
and blindness envelopes
the world.