Sunday, 4 May 2014

My Poetry: Carnival Ducks

Carnival Ducks


Lined up like carnival ducks
stalled blank faces
with old rucksacks and plastic bags
on precinct meeting place.

A hundred holy shoes lined up
along a bench,
each corner of each mouth
turned to the floor

listening to the one with
a bottle of cheap blues
and bad news on her breath
recite her lines as if she were
a leading player in a Beckett play.

They all prey for something
to soften the day, her words work
while they wait for time to pass away
like a loved pet.

An acoustic busker jams
another nineties hit;
a child dances, unaware
of everything except the music,
his parents aware of everything,
but the music.

I sit on the bench
eating a pre-packaged cheese sandwich
as i read the poster
on the theatre wall opposite.

Art mirrors life,
tragedy and humour
are married, unfaithful lovers
in this carnival town, i think,

we are either shooting
or are the game,
but never both.
 
 

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