let us go down
to the carnival grounds
to watch the executions.
ragged men
sell orbs of blue
& orange light
which hover along behind like dogs.
dreded women
in paper aprons
hawkin strawberries, mushrooms
pound by pound-
durty children
sneakin fingers
into pockets,
around apples.
a sudden cackle-
a fire burst-
a knife
held to throat-
a stumbling man
spillin ale
on the heads of
blessed children.
a boy chasing head less chick en
thru the crowd.
the old & in firm
dragging their oxygen tanks
& morphine drips behind
waving their purses at
the bookie taking bets
on how long til the neck snaps.
his daughter, twisted grin,
selling photographs of the dead
at the end of the ride.
