fat homeless people

yeah, what the hell gives with that?

lemon lollipops sitting in a bowel

at the dentist's office

makes my stomach undulate

with nauseating memories

of sugar against scrapped enamel,

bleeding still from the picks and prongs

of sadists.

a bear on a unicycle,

my God, that's still funny!

The du du da du circus music

coming from speakers

perched in rafters of a shabbily patched tent

rising out of the dudsty mid-western

town square like a satanic obelisk.

Fat Albert cartoons

and others of poor quality

but significant for showing the world

that percussive sounds

can be wrangled from beating a turkey leg

against an extended gut.

we are all your lost children.

we are the knight, and squire.

the mute girl and the fool.

the dark one stays on the shore for now,

but our merry band of souls

is marching toward him

closer and closer everyday,

and the skull on the wagon

simply laughs,

enjoying this warm scene.

Reviews

[Kris]

There's something I like about this piece. Something about it captures the nauseating experience that is almost every carnival or fair in existence. You have something of a bizarre style of writing, one that throws an image at you and steps back suddenly, then throws another and steps back, undulating just as the figure's stomach undulates from the start. I'm not a big fan of the last 5 or 6 lines, right about where you start talking about knights and squires and a dark one. Not sure what that's about. Anyway, cheers.