The Church Carnival


When I was a child and it was springtime the church carnival would setup in the field by my house.
They would place the Bobby Horses by the corner and then the Ferris Wheel next to it so they would be the first things you see coming down the street.
I remember the sound and the smells
The Himalaya spinning with rock music blaring,
The games and the calls of the barkers beckoning you to take a chance,
The clown face on the Tilt-A-Whirl that gave me nightmares
The black power cables thrown upon the green grass
The dark blue and green tents of the vendors
The eagle’s wings on the silver Scrambler cars that somehow made them seem faster.
The square slices of “Piggy’s Pizza” that you could only get there.
The nuns and priest selling chances for a basket full of liquor
The people betting quarters on what hole a mouse would get cheese from
How scary the haunted house seemed from the outside and how lame it was on the inside
The oohs and aahs of the fireworks the final night
And then...
The next morning it was over
The field is not totally empty
It becomes a childhood archaeological site
Spent tickets and chances on the dirt and grass
Dumpsters full of stale food
A pizza oven, cooling in the morning dew, stands without its tent
Indentions in the ground where a ride once spun
How did it go away so fast?
It was here last night
I find myself missing the Tilt-A-Whirl clown.