Honesty
Played
like a chump
At
the carnival
Four
tries for a dollar
And
beat by the fifth
This
one was hooked
By
the allure of an easy win
Customers
soon find
A
too soft ball
Inflated
on lies
That
bounces and clatters
Off
heavy steel milk bottles,
Unmoved
sentinels of deception.
Frosted
in merry December
By
the cake man of winter
The
patrons shuffle
Chilled
and solemn
Shuffle
on and on
In
shells of frigid wool
Feasting
on grease cart pastries
Whose
only virtue is warmth.
Every
booth is the hard sell
Each
named “Rigged” and “Crooked”
Though
sometimes spelled in other letters
Surrounded
by fetid hot carriages
The
only source of nourishment.
If
the old man who owns this life knew
Perhaps
there wouldn’t be this decline
Brought
on by bad lives
And
low expectation
Each
beat down
With
each heavy mile
Until
each sings the same song
“A
Carnie till I die,
a Carnie till I die . . . “
An
old pipe organ
Plays
this old song
To
many different tunes
But
No
new words
Are
ever written
Except
at the end
“The
Carnie died at dawn,
the circus has moved on . . .”
A
mound of indifference left behind.
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