It's Not Fair

*I know whoever reads this is probably sick of my fucking poems. I've just had a lot of poetry on my mind thanks to English 253. Regardless, I don't give a fuck. Here is my latest poem with special thanks to my roommate, Adam for his assistance.*

One month—
Chatting families, polished
Pigs, joyful screams, the Ferris
Wheel and funnel
Cake—
The Nebraska State Fair Grounds.

But…

What happens?

When the 4-H
Leaves
And the Animals become
Meals?

Buildings sit like tombstones.
Surrounded by
Empty
Parking lots covered in ice.

Crying out. Missing spinning
Rubber on its
Face.

A lone heartbeat--
Across the wasted land.
The news isn’t
New
Anymore-- He fills the machines
Anyway.

As many today as yesterday
As tomorrow.
And he drives off to get his check.

And horse stalls fills with
Rotting leaves. Patient and
Desperate,
Lights shine down on forgotten pavement.