The Carnival

At the carnival
The young father has his daughter
On his shoulders
Above the world.

He has spent more five dollar bills
Than he would have liked
Trying to win a game
Where you have to squirt water at a dot.

His daughter laughs,
And he forgets
Seven years towards a doctorate
That has landed him
Standing in front of a classroom
Three nights a week.

His daughter begs dearly
For another chance
To win a plush bullfrog
Though she knows
Her real prize
Is watching the tip of his tongue
Press against his upper lip
As he tries to hit the center of the target.

With one toss
Of a soft rubber ball
A man topples a tower
Of old milk bottles.

The young girl
Standing at his side
Picks out a yellow t-shirt
With her favorite singerʼs face
In the middle

Life is not always

Running aimlessly, smiling
With a string of balloons in your hand

Itʼs often
Trying
To keep from landing in the spot
In the bounce house
Where the wall meets the floor
Devoid of air and space
Bouncing
Waiting to swallow you

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