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!]
that's pretty great right there.
ReplyDeletefeeling very much
ReplyDeletelike Bukowski... Oh, yeah, I can see that- brilliant
Thanks, I don't feel comfortable putting myself in with buk, add he's a real poet.
DeleteI 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 ~
ReplyDeleteGrace
Mostly noise and glitz, a microcosm of America.
DeleteThis is fabulous! I wanted to be there :D
ReplyDeleteThanks, that's high praise.
DeleteThe knock off toys...totally summed those up and why I can hardly stand to get into the run around of trying to "win" them!
ReplyDeleteLove the way you placed the reader in the center - a sensory brilliance there - nicely gathered!
Thanks for noticing my detail.
DeleteLoved 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.]
ReplyDeleteThanks, 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.
DeleteOh 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.
ReplyDeleteThanks, you got this poem.
DeleteExcellent. 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.
ReplyDeleteSuch a compliment, thanks!
DeleteI like this very much, Mosk. Hits all the senses.
ReplyDeleteGlad you liked it.
DeleteI 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.
ReplyDeleteAww, shucks. Thank you.
DeleteIt’s only when
ReplyDeletenight 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.
Thanks,Ahbra! I feel at home at OLN.
DeleteWhat a cool perspective on a carnival. And you're so right about how night changes everything.
ReplyDeleteMoonlight has been my friend. Thanks.
DeleteBukowski! He couldn't carry the husks from your tamales, Mosky.
ReplyDeletela la from Shay
I'll take that as praise! Thanks, la la Mosk
DeleteSo many things look worse in the light of day. Are we gonna have to start calling you Buddah Bukowski?
ReplyDeleteOh no. I can't live up to either of those titles! Thanks, Mosk
DeleteAnd thank you for letting us share in your unassuming witnessing with your rich details. Quite something.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Clairey. This writing is my unassuming witness!
DeleteYes, & thank you for the visit; sorry I tend to be long-winded; the Viscount of Verbosity some call me; smile.
ReplyDeleteDon't apologize for being long-winded; I apologize for having such a short attention span! :)
DeleteYou describe the scene perfectly! The transformation from day to night is magical.
ReplyDeleteThat's what night's supposed to do! Thanks!
DeleteThis 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.
ReplyDeleteThanks, my pov is all i got.
Delete"feeling very much
ReplyDeletelike Bukowski,"
Worth the spit, I would think!
Thanks, I ain't afraid of a little spit!
DeleteSo good. It's like you've been to a few carnivals or something. :D
ReplyDeleteYes, I was taken to many carnivals in my day, but I always found my way home. Thanks.
DeleteYour descriptive skills are on point! I was totally there with you. Great work!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much!
DeleteThis place of isolation
ReplyDeletein 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...:)
Thank you for your very creative and positive response.
DeleteI 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"
ReplyDeleteThank you, and as one of them, I am loyal dedicated and proud, in general as well.
DeletePerfect depiction of a carnival. The bright lights are so inticing!
ReplyDeleteThanks and yes, I'm a sucker for the bright lights.
DeleteI could imagine it quite well through your words. Thank you. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Vinay!
DeleteYou 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.
ReplyDeleteI love your comment. Thanks, Mosk
DeleteI love your comment. Thanks, Mosk
DeleteThanks for your kind comments. Yes puberty was a rough time. I hope to be finished with it soon.
DeleteThanks for your kind comments. Yes puberty was a rough time. I hope to be finished with it soon.
DeleteThis 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