Trapped In The Haunted House Ride Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

Trapped In The Haunted House Ride



The speeding carts
in darkness lunge and squeal,
(eyes glow then fade)
down through a dragon's jaw,
passed bats and skulls.
Kids shriek with anxious awe,
but, though we duck,
few think the phantoms real.
What scares me
(more than plywood ghoul or witch,
who just like us
are forced around then back)
is what's beneath us
on this endless track,
how hidden wheels
provoke the pre-set switch.
Just so the scent of thyme-
up swells regret.
A train at night-
I'm homesick once again.
A book-
lost love.
Enough!
Not what, it's when and why
that stumps me,
haunts me,
makes me fret.
The shuttle not the shame
is what I dread,
this Mobius madness
jolting in my head.

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