Brash galaxy of
light and noise
screaming with
children
burned with
laughter and tears;
muscled pumping
engines
manipulating
gaudy chandeliers.
The Cinderella of
night is pushed
from this
mud-clad tent of tight excitement.
Pungent nasal assailment of diesel fume and candy
floss;
odorous cocktail.
Sharp shots of sparkled static pierce battlefield
ears
as yesterdays brassy pop-masters
fumble, in integrated deadlock, to claim attention.
Spinning webs of red and yellow blur,
devour the gullible in a vortex of speed,
a frenzy of vertigo,
until,
the web relaxes its grip
releasing its catch, spun dry of cries.
A gentle-giant
unicycle stirs through the air
reaching up into
brief breaths of high fresh darkness,
stroking the sky
which will cast
its silence, again,
late
in the forge of night.
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