We sat on the floating tilt o’whirl at the parking lot carnival at night.
The neon lights slowly faded and we sat tight underneath the pressure of the—safety belt
Waiting for the machinists and operators to abandon their stations
To be alone
Without the noise and clutter of the world
The darkness seemed surreal with the vivid memories of starbursts spread out—every three inches
Watching us with serene potential
They mock our impotence
Watching what amusemeant
To one in the past
When the world was as simple as
The floating tilt o’whirl at the parking lot carnival at night . . .
O’ come and play dear Golden girl;
Elixir as sweet as a mixture of honey
And fix me a treat that keeps you so sunny,
To trick mine eyes too to shine as a pearl.
A sip and my trip is straight into the whirl,
And smooth it is so for you are so runny . . .