ferris wheel lights

Ferris Wheel Lights (A Sestina)

Working at the amusement park is a grand old time.

There’s nothing like having to hide

In the ticket booth when you wanna smoke a joint

So your boss doesn’t find out and fire you.

Every ride has bright, multicolored lights

And this is how I waste my time away.

The closest bathroom is half a mile away,

Those Porta-Johns are full all the time

And always smell like Marlboro Lights

It’s where those teen brats like to hide.

A kid always asks for another toy gun from you

And immediately bends it all out of joint.

Jocks, barbies and snotty kids mill around this joint,

Throwing all their money away

Buying more and more tickets from you

Screaming, complaining, cheating all the time

And there’s no good place to hide

With all these obnoxious lights.

They’re poor substitute for big city lights,

They only illuminate this cheesy joint,

Don’t even let dirty gutters hide—

I’m surprised they don’t want to look away.

Cotton candy disappears in your mouth every time,

But you think it’s worth it, don’t you?

The only boy who ever liked you

Works across the park, beyond the lights,

But you miss him waving at you every time

Because some skeez is yelling, “Let’s blow this joint!”

And a mom drags her eight kids away

Screaming, “One more word and I’ll tan your hide!”

Why do the five-year-olds always play hide

And seek in the Fun House? “Hey, you!”

Where the hell are your parents? Go away!”

Finally Anna, who manages mini golf, lights

A gloriously white, papered little joint

And we smoke until closing time.

This is where I hide, and yet these lights

Are poor substitutes you know, for home, the joint

You tried to get away from, before you wasted your time.

photo cred