An abstract take on my preferred theme for the 10-11 Opus- "carnival".
The gates open wide
And the ticket-men do not smile
As I step into the carnival.
Big men in chains lumber
Like elephants, slow, sad, and
Willingly hesitant to comply.
A fellow in the corner does
Card tricks on top of the table, shuffling a
Wrinkled deck of abandoned hopes.
In the booth beside him, a man rolls
A die that everyone knows is weighted,
But they have long since ceased to care.
Straight ahead, he sits behind plexiglass,
Decked out in a regulation orange jumpsuit and
Waiting for me to tell him my fortune.
I sit down across from him and
Search his face for my opening act,
Another pretend piece of normalcy to pull from a hat.
The hat is empty, the trick’s failed, and I
Turn to Security, who tells me
We have five minutes to do our show.
I force a smile with some carnival magic,
Take a deep breath, and face the spotlight.
“Hello, dad. How’s your month been?”