The Demolition Derby

At the fairgrounds, the fairgrounds

seem to be everywhere. Fairgrounds

scream through the carnival rides. Fried

around the fairground is a crispy batter.

While not everyone is alive, some of those

who are are present. The rest, like

me, are arriving in a frothy fog.

Things explode and cars crash on purpose.

There are children. 

There is a sense of dread that is small-

town and homey. I start to drift

on the radar, beeping in weird places.

My son is tied to the family he was

born into. In this sense, we're tired and equal.

I explain to him the way that the world is

absolutely full of people and that it's 

always really been like that, especially

when there weren't dinosaurs or anything.

The room to breathe dwindles 

but the habit of movement is funky.