The Pygmy Giant

by James Edwards-Smallbone

There is screaming at the funfair,
And the stench of petrol fumes entwined with burning sugar.

There is screaming at the funfair,
And thundering bass adorned with screeching sirens.

There is screaming at the funfair,
And half-chewed food discarded in blood-red mud.

There is screaming at the funfair,
And flashing lights, red, green, yellow and blue, blue, blue.

There are punctured balloons,
And soft toys haemorrhaging stuffing.

But mostly,
There is screaming at the funfair.

James Edwards-Smallbone does not like funfairs.