Spinning on a top of color;
The balloons are inflated in the desk,
and the rainbow streamers gave me a paper-cut.
I thought the red make-up was blood.

Running and jumping up and down
on a box of inflatable candy,
that turned my lips purple and blue.
My dad thought it was lipstick,

so he gave me an old dirty magazine.

When the animals morphed into balloons,
I petted them with grass stuck to my hand.
And POP! – goes the poodle,
in the parking lot next to the splattered juice cups.

My friend cried and wiped his eyes with icing
as a clown grinned, showing his orange teeth
that was the same color of the cheese-curls in the bowl,

that the three year-old just poured into the kiddy pool.

I got lost in the ball-pit.
I remember every color, then nothing;
Gray had became the fun
to a depressed clown wishing he’d got the hang

of life’s circus.