Summer: the bright lights of the midway, the rides, exciting summer evening...or is it? |
Crawl with me back behind the the Midway glare of lights so bright they blind you to the inevitable. Slink into the shadows where the carnies laugh at the marks; the sound of their mirth decomposing at the edges of their mouths, falling to the ground to slither away in the darkness. Sneak behind the glowing banners where the peeling paint is stained with a thousand yesterdays and there is no happy ending or smiling child with over-sized toy. See? There beyond the glow of the calliope sleeps a girl, thumb in tear stained mouth, curled into herself in the hay. Momma's busy where the organ sound drowns out other noises. And there, where the fat lady hangs her garments to dry in starlight, she watches the townies stroll and wishes she had a different role to play. Behind the warped boards of the spinning wheels the boy strains to hear coded words to know which lever to press, unless he sees the shiny toes and knows to vanish into the night. Walk the Midway with me now-- the cotton candy spun dreams melting; the grainy taste no longer sweet. The bolt is loose on the tilt-a-whirl but it is late and tear down starts when the last rider bolts for home. Magic and fantasy are folded into boxes, packed away like disjointed clowns in an undersized car until the next day, the next town, the next nameless place and all the dreams are spun once again for the believing, the foolish and the blind. |