for RAW prompt: despair |
Tattered ticket stubs scattered around litter the ground-- imagine the clown on the merry-go-round. Once a noble steed strong and true bedecked in flowers with shiny hooves and flowing mane now a swayed back rib jutting, saliva drooling, backbone piercing old nag. Circling round and round And round and round and round and round and round andround and No calliope. No light, sprightly waltz. Stuck record repetition-- illusive half recalled fragment of some forgotten tune. Brass rings tarnished. Forever out of reach. Black, befouled beneath the bloody headed vulture perched: Watching Waiting. Wanting-- Should the spinning cease. Spiral spinnings blurred surroundings Haunted faces Or are they reflections? Refractions? Refracted reflections Fragmented. Sideshow mirrors reflect wild eyed one dimensional images caught in freeze frame. Face whiter than bone, eyes bruised with lack of sleep. I do not know me. I am a stranger. Ahead of me wraiths, mere shells of themselves each clutching that brass ring I could never manage to reach. I cannot catch up. I dare not fall behind. Pursuing me, nightmare caricatures on charging beasts follow on the heels of my deception. Won’t stop, long ride Can’t stop, lose stride Round and round Up and down Sing-song tune Night ‘till noon. Can’t get off I’ll fall. Can’t stay on I’ll fall. I’m falling anyway Everyway. Mocking laughter rides the nearby roller coaster pitching and careening out over the sea. At least if you survive the death spiral you can get off at the end of the ride tho' false bravado hides pounding blood. Strobe Frozen moments Defining seconds Replayed ad infinitum. . . Enflamed images careening Past. Sweat slicked pole Stick fingers hanging on Can’t let go. Can’t stop Spinning off Out of control Spinning ever faster Hunger gnaws deep for more than stale popcorn emptiness kernels of tooth-breaking truth-- for more than sweet memories of cotton candy fluff. Scent of rain mingles with well trod sawdust coating my throat: swallow caught in shadow. Images ooze together like smeared paint. Can’t focus Up, down Around around Forward backward Doesn’t matter. Going onward Going nowhere. No where to go. Tethered on the edge of consciousness On the Carousel to Hell |