The merry-go-round is turning
fast and shiny as sunlight dancing
off the mirror, gilded pony's wicked
smiles foretell the future

in perpetual circles. No one is going
to finish this race, children
cling to wooden necks

like flies enrapt
in spider's web,


of life's defeat, its lack of purpose,
the treachery of motion...

when the go-round slows-

fiercely plead for more.

No comments: