pointless counterpoint

when i was young & blonde hair still clung to my head like a nimbus of american light my father lifted me up onto his shoulders shoulders that could have held jupiter and sent atlas into a cowering shame the carnival of people he lifted me above was a wild animal in the throes of an ecstasy i could not understand cotton candy corn dogs & cow shit dripped from the walls of the sky & i looked over in time to see a green-faced girl vomitting anxiously into a garbage can while yellowjackets buzzed furiously about her looking for something sweet later in the afternoon i screamed and wet my pants through the amazing agony of a rollercoaster before we left to go home we saw protesters talking about capital punishment choking patriotically on tear gas asking for a drink of waterA note to those who might be offended by the word SHIT, which appears once in this poem: I usually do not reduce myself to vulgarity in my poetry- I've found out the hard way that there are far more dramatic ways to express yourself than diminutive Anglo Saxon words of the four-letter variety. But sometimes, when you remember the smell of cow shit, all you remember is the smell of cow shit. Know what I mean? Written October 10th, 2001 © on Oct 12 2001 08:47 AM PST   18 • 0 • 9