portion of the artwork for Sharon Kennedy-Nolle's poem

Another Little Bastard
Sharon Kennedy-Nolle

Aboard the Ali Baba,
facing the funhouse across the way,
there you sit,
calm, smiling, set
apart from the
screaming teens.
As if strapped in Old Sparky,
hair-tindered, you
thrill at the thought of juice.
Carnival lights wink color-
fast haloes around
your pinball head,
as if you’d beam a Buddha blessing
on the non-idolatrous below.
Your legs dangle.
This,
just after you tell me of those
who had theirs sheared clear
off at Six Flags, when a safety band snapped.
Some rip cord.
Turning from watching your brothers in the bumper cars,
I see you spin,
hell in a hand basket,
as if I’m watching a movie
with the sound off.
A James Dean
crash-and-burn at the crossroads.
But there are no accidents.
Head-on this dull-deadened day,
stuffed animals sway on prize hooks.


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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 52 | Fall/Winter 2018