my little girl is terrified
of carousels
and I could never
understand why,
she recoils at
the very sight of them
as her friends go gleefully by.
she screams and freaks
and kicks and cries,
we had to patiently wait
till she learned to speak
so she could finally
tell us why —
daddy look at the horsey's eyes
she squeaks
and my god,
it's as clear as sky —
their equestrian eyes wide
with agony
their frozen cries
their silent neighs,
revolving here on noisey display.
and that maddening music,
their poor wooden heads
the circular soundtrack to
the only life they've lead,
it would fill anyone, anywhere
with the most absolute dread —
and that’s why we avoid
the merry-go-round
and ride the swings
instead.