I used to love the fair, didn’t you?

Hooking ducks out of the water

Eating hotdogs with too much ketchup

Panicking over height restrictions

The blood and thunder of the dodgems

Brought out your inner competitor.

There was a whole array of facepaints

Which made you stand out from the crowd.

Stallholders would ask all about you,

Your name, your age, where you were from

Orange sun set over brown grass, while

Joyous youths took home toys and balloons

As the whole village turned out in force

Glorious, glorious innocence.

 

The exhibitors at this fair

Don’t look like they’re selling candy floss.

No facepainters populate these grounds

But there are plenty of clowns about.

Stallholders still interrogate,

This time without cordiality.

Those whom I recognised as children

Strut around in suits one size too tight

At least they’ve brought their bullshit sticks

To hook the ducks out one by one.

I leave – not with a fluffy dog, but

My tail tucked firmly between my legs

I guess it’s like my teachers told me

Life really isn’t fair after all.