Out in a field by a highway that's littered
With trash there's a tent that's quite gaudy & glittered.
Amidst the waste paper and shards of old glass
There's ponies that nibble on patches of grass.
On patches of grass where there's soon cotton candy
Blooming like flowers too scented and randy.
Clowns looking tired, with wrinkled white faces;
Roustabouts, vendors – pretty hard cases.
We are looking for dreams when we go in the tent
While sitting on bleachers that we only rent.
Like a stone wall in the tropics with geckos,
Our dreams are but bug-driven barking and echoes.
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