carnival

when the carnival comes to town, it always rains. it is dreary, damn, and cold. the carnival lights color the town, flashing, flickering, and pulsing to the melodic drone of the merry music. it is lonely there, a desolate side show, just bright colors beating, an electric dream. i remember as a little girl, awaiting the carnival, the pink sugared cotton candy, the ferris wheel, the fun games and cheap prizes. it always rained though, poured on the first day, maybe with a few hours of sun the second day, but mostly melancholic days. maybe nature was responding to the unnatural presence of fake fun. how removed we become with games and spinning objects. Now that I'm older, the carnival bring nostalgia, and the rain blurrs the electric lights. Painting my memory, vivid dreams re-appear, I am sugered and gleeful, I am in motion, spinning, like my little mind, when the carnival comes to town.