it was the pink-est
of all cotton candy,
growing inside
a sugared bowl,
and you watched
as the paper
wand swirled
making your gut
clench and lurch
in anticipation.

you wanted this,
swearing up
and down
as if you gave
a flying f***,
but fumbling in
fat grimy hands,
you managed
somehow ...
to drop it.

too messy
for your tastes.
but still you
screamed,
crying out loud
and they came,
showering you
with m&ms
and shiny dimes
to ply your smile.

how terrible
it must be
they said,
to endure
such an
utter loss
of sweetness,
and many years
you let them
believe this lie.

where are you now,
self-righteous brat?
bet i can find you,
over and again,
years to come,
still wandering,
whining, spoiled
and begging
for more candy
under the big top.