Archive for April 20th, 2011


By John Grey

Some carnival.
The cops decide who and what
and how much we celebrate.
And the rides are cheap and always breaking down.
And thievery’s masked as games of skill.
Candy apple, candy cane, candy floss,
sold by a woman named Candy
with a tattoo on both breasts.
But it’s the neighborhood
so what do you expect.
It’s the empty field
I pass by every day
and now someone’s pitched a tent,
hooked up a ferris wheel,
put together a cheesy carousel.
So instead of litter,
it’s hucksters.
Instead of one cop
munching on a donut,
it’s six cops
munching on six donuts.
And deciding who and what
and how much we celebrate.
I’m on a ride and it breaks down.
But, in this neighborhood,
that’s always how I get my money’s worth.
Some carnival.

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