Amusement Park Bench
A poem about a mother’s love
Published in
2 min readNov 2, 2021
The last time I loved a roller coaster
was the first time I was in a commercial.
The rush from that superficial milestone masked
a corkscrew in the universe that flipped
the dimensions and expressions
of my world.
After my ninth whirl around
the Alpengeist (nod to the ghosts
of my childhood German home)
I gave up.
An experience I loved
contorted into
nauseated knots
that knocked me
to my knees.
No more.
The amusement park bench
my only solace after sickness
and surrender.
My first paid TV gig
and I blow it ’cause
I’ve got no guts.
My victory was keeping their contents inside.
The same season my body retired wild coasters
my life stepped into that park line,
strapped in, gripped
the cold, metal bar
and kept right on riding.
