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Ferris Wheel
by John Petrolino
There is something about the weathered wood
Cracked, sun beaten, salt soaked boards
Burdened by gum, cigarette butts and beachcombers
Wandering the splintered high way
On recreation, they seem to walk on a mission
Where are the languid happy people?
Off in the distance I see the big Ferris wheel
Spinning around and around all day
Stopping only to load new passengers
I’m not sure what it is
Its not that ozone laden
Fresh sea air
That is supposed to be a mad Victorian euphoric place
Ozone kills
And its not here
Not some fabled fresh air palter
People don’t realize they are high on happiness
Believing they are getting healthy
From an antiquated promotion
The happiness is in their mind
The health is from the happiness
Is it really that easily attained?
Sitting to watch a post Fourth of July
Fourth of July fire works display
Pyrotechnic magic
Wisps of burnt smokeless powder
Cross your senses
Laden with a touch of teenage marijuana
Young kids in awe of the majestic show
Their eyes wide and hungry for more
Wide and hungry for the world
All slows those two months
When school is out
The only cadence they have to march to
Is the cadence of fun
Big breasted bikini clad teenage girls stroll
Up and down this pleasure pier
What do they put in the food?
It makes men stop to drool
Over cursed romances
Little twit brained, big breasted, oblivious girls
They don’t know how much they get defiled each day
Middle aged men think of their
Daughter’s friends
When they come to their tired, old, sagging, beat, sun cracked, spider veined, bronzed for all time wives
The boards crack when you walk on them
Grayed by the sands of Wildwood time
Sea gulls rally in a weird Seder-masochistic ceremony
Over a fallen plate of French fries
I think of the happy children
I think of a time frame of mind
When happiness was free and every five minuets
Sand between toes and in bathing suit bottoms
The biggest problems they encounter
Back when happiness was free
Before the first shades of deep willow wisps
Touched the bodices of these maidens
Before the night time dreams
Flowing in the minds of boys’
In their heads
Hard to understand
Forever trying to recreate the feelings
Those early moments
Chasing those feelings straight to the grave
Well before the survival of
The finest feeling kicked in
Happiness was free and attached simply to the feeling of happiness
And nothing else
These poor boys and girls - -
Will be tainted by discovery
Discovery of God’s natural gifts
Discovery of emotion
Dissociation of self
Right now they shall enjoy
Simple pleasures
Ping pong balls tossed in bowls for gold fish
Rings to sticks
Balls to hoops
Big ice cream filled soft serve cones dripping with the milk of youth
The innocent children of today
Basking in the shore, sun-light
Glory of summerance
There surely is something
Off in the distance I see the big Ferris wheel
Spinning around and around all day
Stopping only to load new passengers
Brings young and old alike
To the wooden paradise of a boardwalk
Those pleasures recreated
Or discovered for the first time
A true timeless Mecca of American pleasure