Dark Ride

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The oiled iron track clicks and groans,
divining the path of my cart painted 
circus red and carnival gold.
With a hollow, wooden clap, 
I burst 
through loose swinging doors
to a richer darkness 
black-lit by otherworldly beings
who shock and delight
at every creaky, unnatural turn.
Against the rules, 
I lift the cold chrome safety bar from across my lap,
encouraged by the glowing elected ghouls
whose cries, to me, 
are lullabies and drinking songs.
I step out of my cart and 
they welcome me
because I’m home.
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