marshall hall

the wooden roller
coaster at marshall
hall in southern
maryland
was on wobbly stilts
with peeling paint.
it appeared ready
to collapse at any
given moment
under a breath of wind.
the rusted metal cars
screeched
and screamed
along the worn
glistening rails.
how many died,
no one knows
for sure,
the death count
was never revealed,
but it was an act
of courage to get on,
strap in,
and scream as it
clicked and clacked
slowly up that first
steep hill. struggling
to rise to the top
of the park before
plummeting into
the dark abyss of hell
where you could see
a mechanic tightening
a screw or two
beneath the boards.
it then whipped
you around like
a rag doll for
another five
frenzied minutes.
prayer was mandatory.
and whatever you
had eaten
was often left behind.
and then you went again.