The Night Before The Spring Fling

They’re putting up
the carnival rides
in the courtyard.

You couldn’t traverse
any habitual route
if you wanted to.

And who would?
What with the promise
of fried cotton candy

tilt a whirl, merry
go round, pirate
ship, ferris wheel.

Although I don’t
plan on attending
the fair, because

I’d rather remember
the rides set in place
as they are now,

crouching creatures
relaxed, at rest,
perfectly still, workers

spraying them with
water as they would
elephants at the circus.

Although here in
the twilight machines
begin to hum, alight,

ready to project passengers
nearly into oblivion
before bringing them

back to pavement again.