Steeplechase Park
So cold the metal sighed
This dizzy gothic frame
Straightening the sunlight
To end at last in sky.

Cotton candy eyelids
Rollercoaster mouth. Pause,
Chant the ragged luster
Of misremembered nights.

All passing sounds that must
Recede in someone else.
Twined amorous machines
Devour each other’s rust

Against the day. Slow crawl
Of loss. Spent words unlit.
Pier closed at dusk. And then
A movement soft in gold.

No hand to hold the stone
Or to receive the sea.

- Jason Price Everett