Theme Park

 

Theme Park

 

If life is a ride

Mine has broken down

And lies dismantled

Rusting in the sunlight

Hulking on the edge of vision

Lurking in the middle of the crowds

As happier people lead happier lives

On brand new rides.

 

The wires are cut

The cables no longer connect

Paint flakes away like dandruff

On the paths, trampled under

Children’s trainers, mothers with

Push-chairs, fathers and sons,

Teenagers, teachers, bankers

Preachers, hard boots across

My crumbling bones.

 

No sudden rise to the top

And sharp drop, or gradual rotation

Of elation, childlike excitement

No balloons floating to the sky,

No slow descent

And nothing left to lament

Just a carcass to be picked dry

Bleached, polished and sent

Away.

 


 

© Copyright David Marriott 2012 – 2015 all rights reserved­.
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