Dr. Carnival
Free verse
The clouds feel cool today, the winds
recede and swell. The sky is static with
uncertainty
the hum
of summits and descents is sudden but —
what’s this? A life vest wraps across
my chest. I search the pockets, here’s a note:
“This ride is killing you. You must talk
to the man in charge.”
I lift the bar and disembark
straight to the abattoir of truth, a grungy monkey wrench
in a ticket booth, where I pay for a pair of paper dice.
I eat them in panic and the world reclines
on a couch
on a third-floor box of nothing much.
Dr. Carnival strides in.
“This surfboard is what works
then
you will dance across the sea — “
What a minute, Doc, I can’t walk
much less on water, I need help off
this cascade.
“Is this rollercoaster fun? Why do you climb on?”
“Doctor, I wake up strapped inside Car №1, every day.”
