the carnival

a carnival arrives
in town to no fanfare.

they're tired people
with tired
tents
and poles.
rides
and what not.
half smiles.
half frowns.

they put it all together
in the cool
shade of night.
the lights, weak
and yellow.
the machines
that grind. someone takes
the tickets.

the smell of burned sugar
laminates the air.
cigar smoke
from old men with broken
teeth
slithers out from their
purple lips.


the crowd is young.
too young to see the pain
in their travel weary eyes.

in time they'll move
on, take apart the games,
the tents,
wheel out onto the open road
to another
strip mall,
where the glass embedded
in the pavement
looks like diamonds.