Fairground (A Study of the World as Amusement Park)

by Aidan Andrew Dun

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With footwork of
the god Pan
slack jaws of
village-idiots
demons ride
the spinning cars
tread lightly where
angels vanish.

Screams fine-tune
to exploding lights
a ballet of lunatics
is kicking-in;
the floor is a
serpent of rebellion:
red dance of
revolving victims.

They slap the
little fiery cradles:
‘Turn on your spits
stupid babies
burn in your own
hysteria, children:
disorientation
your dubious
medicine.’






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