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Personal Note:

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Poem

After traffic backup and teen crack ups,
my friends and I park and toward today’s lark,
through gate, stamp and bracelet I race
greeting other friends with new to make.

Amid fried onion reek and the compete
smell of fresh buttered strawberry scone
tastes tantalize—corn dog and cotton candy
and the lingering hunger we dare not name…

Will we catch breath with a forbidden grope
in the house of mirrors, more likely laughs
at the lack of kiss in the house of horror
where the grizzly man eyes me up and down.

Lank and leathery, could he ring the hammer home
win me soft animals to cuddle and show, offer
dark corner kisses more experienced than teen boys
but I run, run from games to rides to exhibits.

Until night turns alive with lights and concert goers depart
and I wander alone, greeting and tasting sizzle—
my arm grabbed and a boozy mouth covers mine
and I’m backed toward the garbage by cowboy hat.

“Who’ll save me?" I twist and fight hearing laugh.
The harsh brush of hairy bristle on cheek
stills me, I relax, take what I wanted
however different it feels. He loosens grip.

I break away to crowd shouts and laughs,
he follows offers a bottle of bourbon
and an endless starry ride on Ferris wheel
and I sip and kiss, measure and search.

Missing friends are here, somewhere.
Will they come with rain or closing hour?
But soon one whirl too many on scrambler
has me puking in alley, my hair pulled,

clothing loosened and grabbing hands
hurt and my neck bit and I’m led
stumbling toward the House of Horrors
and screech at descending knives more real

of having tasted the truth of fair men.
Grown men, men experienced and legal
and I, neck bruised and heart hammering
flee, rip off bracelet, find friends waiting at car.

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