To the Gear at the Center of the Ferris Wheel

ferris

 

To the Gear at the Center of the Ferris Wheel

 

You are the sprocket at the center of the microverse.

You know-nothing North Star Nirvana.

The ferris wheel flung in flailing reverse

shouts swirling with sheer ‘mericana.

 

You know-nothing North Star, Nirvana,

the semblance of peace in your cogs,

shouts swirling with sheer ‘mericana

all lost to your doldrumming fogs.

 

The semblance of peace in your cogs

is terror to seated extremes.

All lost to your doldrumming fogs

are your passengers’ mortified screams.

 

Is terror to seated extremes

A turnstile carnival dirge?

Are your passengers’ mortified screams

where courage and quitting converge?

 

A turnstile carnival dirge

cannot defeat the rust

where courage and quitting converge.

Central, then suffering, then dust.

 

cannot defeat the rust

The ferris wheel flung in flailing reverse—

Central, then suffering, then dust.

You are the sprocket at the center of the microverse.

-M.M.

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