The Sizzler

The smells of fried dough
cotton candy
stale booze on a carnie's breath.
Wobbly metal steps scaled
and you wait
the warm breeze lifts your skirt
carries giddy screams
The arms of an alien craft wave
up and down in the distance
As it spins

This is summer
And maybe it's the smuggled alcohol
But you are thankful for it
Because soon you will be spinning
And screaming
Your knees bruising against the safety bar
With someone you love

She won't let you share your favorite photo
She says she has crazy eyes
But you wanted so badly
to kiss her in that moment
Nothing crazy about it
As you looked at her sideways
smirking
And clicked the shutter