Rolling.. Clack. Clack. Clack.. Click. Clack..
Climbing to the tippy top..
There’s a sudden hush
followed by a shriek from a woman
with long rugged kinky hair and an orange suntan.
The wind is absent and time suddenly seems paused,
but still fizzles like a drop of ice water
on the blacktop under a heavy August sun.
I hear your voice as I descend.
Your promises tickle my ears with the wind.
At every turn you grab my stomach
in your hands and shake it up
as I twist and flip upside down.
When I scream mercy, you cry out
you are now the victim, and threaten to cut my harness.
After released I seemingly run free,
stuck in this day, my heart tick tocking in a theme park
with fun house mirrors, clocks, and clowns.