Pages

Thursday, September 17, 2015

The Mexican Carnival

The Mexican carnival
creeps overnight
onto the empty lot
next to the dollar store,
across from the storefront church,
grimy,
miles worn,
paint chipping.

The smell of
sickly sweet
deep fried pancake batter
wafts over the
loudspeakers blasting
Adriana Grande
y las bandas ultimas,
enticing the crowd.

The rigged games offer
plush prizes,
faded by the sun,
mutant knock-offs of
Spongebob Squarepants
and slightly misshaped Minions
made in Viet Nam.

It’s only when
night falls,
and darkness obscures
the spit smears,
overflowing trash bins,
with the music blaring
from invisible demonic speakers,
the red, white and green twinklers
give everything an
ersatz showbiz glitz.

It's pretty,
even inviting.

I stand in the middle
of it all,
every sense engaged,
quietly smiling,
feeling very much
like Bukowski,

an unassuming witness
to the unlikely pageant
before it all packs up
and is gone.

[For http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2015/09/the-edge.html and http://dversepoets.com/2015/09/17/open-link-night/ - come along and play!]

56 comments:

  1. that's pretty great right there.

    ReplyDelete
  2. feeling very much
    like Bukowski... Oh, yeah, I can see that- brilliant

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, I don't feel comfortable putting myself in with buk, add he's a real poet.

      Delete
  3. I have not seen nor been to one ~ But I can imagine it full of noise and showbiz glitz ~ You bring me there with you Mosk ~ Good one ~

    Grace

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Mostly noise and glitz, a microcosm of America.

      Delete
  4. This is fabulous! I wanted to be there :D

    ReplyDelete
  5. The knock off toys...totally summed those up and why I can hardly stand to get into the run around of trying to "win" them!

    Love the way you placed the reader in the center - a sensory brilliance there - nicely gathered!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks for noticing my detail.

      Delete
  6. Loved this one, Buddha-Man; felt like, sounded like, written like Buk hisself; brave grave wordsmithing thrusting out from the peeling paint to the garish midnight glitz, putting lipstick on pot-bellied pigs, hiding the trash, presenting the Carnie con; strong terrific poem.[ Note: Have bumped into you on several poetry sites over the years, & have stopped by to comment on your work--yet you have never visited me; as X said to me when I was slow to return a visit, reciprocation is a beautiful thing. I don't think I ever insulted your Mama.]

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, and I've left some comments for you on your poems. If you've noticed, I tend to comment mostly on shorter poems, as I usually don't have the attention span for longer poems. I appreciate your enthusiastic comments.

      Delete
  7. Oh yes, we did write from the same viewpoint. I was ENCHANTED once it got dark and the lights made it all so magical. I really loved the "misshaped minions", LOL.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Excellent. So true and descriptive. One has set up in the lot of the Catholic church in the crux of the crossroads. I won my husband a little hound dog at the balloon pop - the game guy was surprised. I think I should have gotten a bigger prize but he was embarrassed - I popped 16 balloons (he didn't know I'm an engineer and cheated knowing you don't go at them straight on but loop the dart up so it goes down at an angle) he pretended to not speak English but my husband was happy with the little plush hound. Since the FBI wasn't tailing me, I couldn't feel like Bukowski but I felt very much like Kerouac.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I like this very much, Mosk. Hits all the senses.

    ReplyDelete
  10. I went to carnivals as a kid (not Mexican ones though) and loved it all. You do a great job of capturing the sights and smells. Yeah they are pretty grimy looking in the daylight but when the lights come on at night there's a whole different feel to it. You really took me back with this one and did a magnificent job with it.

    ReplyDelete
  11. It’s only when
    night falls,
    and darkness obscures
    the spit smears,
    overflowing trash bins,
    with the music blaring
    from invisible demonic speakers,
    the red, white and green twinklers
    give everything an
    ersatz showbiz glitz.

    I like the contrast...and richness of details. Welcome to OLN.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks,Ahbra! I feel at home at OLN.

      Delete
  12. What a cool perspective on a carnival. And you're so right about how night changes everything.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Moonlight has been my friend. Thanks.

      Delete
  13. Bukowski! He couldn't carry the husks from your tamales, Mosky.

    la la from Shay

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'll take that as praise! Thanks, la la Mosk

      Delete
  14. So many things look worse in the light of day. Are we gonna have to start calling you Buddah Bukowski?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh no. I can't live up to either of those titles! Thanks, Mosk

      Delete
  15. And thank you for letting us share in your unassuming witnessing with your rich details. Quite something.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Clairey. This writing is my unassuming witness!

      Delete
  16. Yes, & thank you for the visit; sorry I tend to be long-winded; the Viscount of Verbosity some call me; smile.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Don't apologize for being long-winded; I apologize for having such a short attention span! :)

      Delete
  17. You describe the scene perfectly! The transformation from day to night is magical.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's what night's supposed to do! Thanks!

      Delete
  18. This is really excellent - both as a description and as a depiction of life: the ersatz showbiz glitz, the spit, the fading dreams. Your POV is so on point.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, my pov is all i got.

      Delete
  19. "feeling very much
    like Bukowski,"
    Worth the spit, I would think!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, I ain't afraid of a little spit!

      Delete
  20. So good. It's like you've been to a few carnivals or something. :D

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, I was taken to many carnivals in my day, but I always found my way home. Thanks.

      Delete
  21. Your descriptive skills are on point! I was totally there with you. Great work!

    ReplyDelete
  22. This place of isolation
    in a party as large
    as a county
    fair.. invisible,,
    without connections
    that others enthuse
    feel so easy.. with tinglies..
    fully extended.. or those critters
    from the movie avatar that float
    all around.. yeah.. apathy can
    be a killer.. cynicism.. dark
    light of isolation..
    to grasp
    at one
    last
    hair
    of
    feeling..
    to touch..
    is the start
    of
    BEinG...:)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for your very creative and positive response.

      Delete
  23. I am familiar with this Mexican scene...love your description of the smells and sights, the sun-faded prizes. As a people, they are loyal, dedicated and proud of their green and red and white "twinklers"

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, and as one of them, I am loyal dedicated and proud, in general as well.

      Delete
  24. Perfect depiction of a carnival. The bright lights are so inticing!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks and yes, I'm a sucker for the bright lights.

      Delete
  25. I could imagine it quite well through your words. Thank you. :)

    ReplyDelete
  26. You write it like you walked there last night, regionally 100 proof, both with puberty's astonishment and its long, sad disappointment. Bukowksi there on the promenade, thank you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I love your comment. Thanks, Mosk

      Delete
    2. I love your comment. Thanks, Mosk

      Delete
    3. Thanks for your kind comments. Yes puberty was a rough time. I hope to be finished with it soon.

      Delete
    4. Thanks for your kind comments. Yes puberty was a rough time. I hope to be finished with it soon.

      Delete
  27. This took me back to the Labor Day fair of my youth. Although the prizes were all made in Japan then (ah, the irony)! But that line about how you don't see those spit smears at night... that really got me. I do remember visiting during the day and feeling as though "the circus" (we didn't know the difference) had shrunk somehow. As though it puffed up to its full grandeur only after sundown. GREAT! Love, Ameleh

    ReplyDelete