The Buchtelite

Carnival of Rust

%28Image+via+Pixabay%29
(Image via Pixabay)

(Image via Pixabay)

(Image via Pixabay)

By Jordan Wood, Guest Poet

When does it stop
His never-ending ride
Pulling ahead
Yet never making a stride
He cannot please

When does it cease
Stuck in a never-ending loop loop loop
Below him the lights twinkle and dance
in rhyme without a second glance
This Carnival of Rust

Back through the dust
to the ground floor attractions he goes
Fun House, Tunnel of Love, Haunted House
He decides the food court knows
to satisfy his gnashing soul

Forward through lulls
He seeks a morsel of awe
But as he closes in, cracks in the walls show
With a shrug, they are covered up and none are wiser
Within this Carnival of Rust

A girl offers
a large lolli on a stick
Only to find when he takes it
it is moldy and covered in ants
and the stick in crimson of his own doing

The stands around
him smolder beautifully
The tendrils reach and bully
Then all is gone and silent once more

What even is this Carnival of Rust

Step right up folks
and test your strength!
Whack! And a prize is won, fluffy and pink
and stuffed with insects to the brink
Another glamorous lie to reap

Will he ever
be able to choose which to display
His gas mask fogs with an overlay
as if near the Disparaging Bay
Eclipsing this Carnival of Rust

These mirrors of
accepted falsities create rows and rows
of fleeting enjoyment for him
Seen through the torn veil
But ignoring the ball of crystal

Big Top Freak Show!
He takes a peek inside
But finds no desire in what he sees
When he gazes into the reflection screen
Among this fleeting Carnival of Rust

Crawlers in hand
And gas mask thoroughly scrubbed
He heads to the gates, as closing time nears
Come one, Come one, back to your only attraction
Here at our wonderful Carnival of Rust!

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