One-Man Carnival

One-Man Carnival

Like a dog on a leash my sister led me,
The curves of her hand soft and feminine
Around mine, small and sharp and
It is then that I know that,
If not for the impatient scolding of my mother
I would not have been here at all,
For the smiles she graces upon her friends
And the few ones she bestows upon me
Are positively not the same

And I am aware of how I do not reach her shoulders
Even when I am standing straight
The smell of burnt oil and hotcakes sharp as she
Tugs rough on my arm and my balance
Is lost, along with her hand and I am
Eating gravel and snow, thrown among
A crowded sea of legs that swallow my words
When my lips part wide
And call her name

And the hot tears that steam up my glasses are
A fresh reminder to my sister’s remorse of
Bringing me along in the first place
And I stand, wiping at my eyes with
Dirt under my fingernails until I flee the scene to
Escape any reprimands, falling over my feet
Into strangers whose laughter I do not
Understand, their faces spinning like the distant
Carousel as I tumble away

And I find myself beneath the eaves of a tent that
Houses crane games and capsule machines and
Ticket stubs and pennies on the ground that
I In turn pocket mindlessly, and I sit
Among the filth and gaze upon the concentrated faces
Of those playing games, of those inserting
Quarter after quarter after quarter while
Mom’s hastily applied mascara
Dries beneath my eyes

And I learn to ignore the volunteer security guard’s
Impertinent gaze, zipping my jacket up above
My chin as the sun sets further beneath the
Clouds, and the pink tip of my nose points like a
Signal towards the Ferris wheel lights, flickering
As my eyes begin to droop into sleep, and
I believe I must be dreaming as my
Sister scoops me up, because it has begun to snow and I
Tell her that I want to go home.