Huckster Jive
Carny calls and huckster jive.
Gaudy colours stab the heavy air
Holding up the night’s black curtain
With fingers of smokey neon light
That dance neath scattered clouds.
Stars wink with knowing glances,
Seeming to conspire with
Barkers, shills and clowns
Hatching their intrigues and their schemes
To part the marks from their money.
And all the while, the trucks arrive,
Unload their contents in orderly fashion
To transform a dusty, vacant lot
Into a Xanadu of pleasure, excitement and delight.
Preamble
Roustabouts perform their dance
Like mad Von Neumann machines
Self-replicating relentlessly across the country.
Community bulletin boards
Have proclaimed the coming event
As they would for a virgin birth.
They perform their advent rituals
And with the first shades of evening
Settling to the ground
It all comes to life.
A cascade of clamorous voices
Ringing and singing
blended with carnie calls
And huckster jive
Assault my ears and tug at my sleeve
To show my skill and treat
That smiling coquette on my arm
To a worthless prize
Of inestimable value.
I know the odds still favour the house.
I’ll toss a ring or fling a dart
These barkers and roustabouts,
Artistes and clowns
Still need to put food on the table.
I willingly part with my money
In fair trade for an hour of fantasy.
Three Rings
A wall of sound and a wave of scents
Assault these heightened senses
And rising over all, delighted screams
While the calliope steams
Await beyond the coloured lights
And beckon “ Come”.
Walk up to the wicket
For a handful of tickets
And know that there is no defense.
They have all the incantations
At their beck and honeyed call.
The stars and moons
Bats and broomsticks
And and the twinkling crystal balls
The magic potions and sideshow trickery,
The sleight-of-hand to hook me
And to reel me in
To divert me from my path.
They know them all
Tattooed on their sweaty arms
Mere putty in their hands
Flies pinging off naked bulbs
As I wander through a flashing forest
On a pathway marked with sawdust.
Wizard
In a brief flash of legerdemain,
A dash of black silk and red satin
The tools of his trade vanish
As quickly as they appeared.
Moon & stars drift back into the night sky
From whence they came
Leaving behind a swath of paper and popcorn
And wide-eyed wonder.
By The Dawn’s Early Light
It was all an illusion, a consensual lie
In exchange for an hour of fantasy.
I succumbed to the lure of Huckster Jive
I bought the ticket
And I went for a ride.
Palimpsest 
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