At the Carnival Waiting in Line
there is electricity in the air.
you can smell it
(like something sweet is burning),
as tiny little fires erupt
in blue sparks
on the ceiling above.
meanwhile children
and grown-ups alike,
amidst screams and laughter,
whirl and spin and
collide quite purposely
into one other.
how very far indeed we have come —
smack-dab at the end
of the twentieth century;
still seeking in restless
diversion the peace that eludes
our hurried pursuit.
the minutes are mostly spent
in anticipation of nothing
really and yet…
there is electricity in the air;
you can smell it
(like something sweet is burning).
– Jerry Dan Deutschendorf