no fun anymore

i can't eat carnival
food like i used to
when i was ten, i tell
ruby, my new girlfriend
who loves amusement parks.
the deep fried twinkies,
hot dogs,
the tall whipped loaf
of cotton
candy, the peanut brittle
and caramel
apples.
it all comes out
when i get on the ferris
wheel, or look at the scrambler
winding about.
i can't even go into
the fun house anymore, i
tell her,
and see myself
in the wavy mirror,
or walk on the tilted floor.
she laughs as she eats
her giant sour dough pretzel
covered in mustard
and says,
you're no fun anymore,
and she's right.