The carnival is over. The high tents, <br />the palaces of light, are folded flat <br />and trucked away. A three-time loser yanks <br />the Wheel of Fortune off the wall. Mice <br />pick through the garbage by the popcorn stand. <br />A drunken giant falls asleep beside <br />the juggler, and the Dog-Faced Boy sneaks off <br />to join the Serpent Lady for the night. <br />Wind sweeps ticket stubs along the walk. <br />The Dead Man loads his coffin on a truck. <br />Off in a trailer by the parking lot <br />the radio predicts tomorrow's weather <br />while a clown stares in a dressing mirror, <br />takes out a box, and peels away his face.<br /><br />Dana Gioia<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sunday-night-in-santa-rosa/
