The plastered smile grins
Phoney, dancing & prancing
Up and down on a pole
Happy battle waltzes tinge the air
As tourists stroll along the prom
The painted faces on the horses never change
Forever caught in mid neigh delight
I don’t know what’s real anymore
The duality of seaside living
Stops the truth from grasping hold.
Were you cheating or is that a dream?
Held in falsetto choir ringing in my ears
The gulls take their strategic places
Atop signage and the quaint street lamps
Ready to swoop and steal pastries
From unsuspecting folk below.
Remember when you said you loved me
That we would never part
Remember all those promises
We made so long ago.
I sit watching the children on the carousel
And wonder is that where I’m at.
Living in a goldfish bowl
Each hint, lie trick
As if it was the first –
Never experienced before.
Seeing the doctor didn’t help
Him being your mate, I s’pose
The tablets zonked me out
Forgetting even my name
I should be able to stand tall
Married to the town mayor and all
And yet I feel equine sympathy
For the plaster caricatures
With my face plastered in pancake
I vacuously grin
With all the other wives
Each time we banquet together.
At least the horses have a plan
To go up and down
And round and round
I have no blueprint for my life
Your epitaph should read:
Paul Mason, duplicitous mayor,
Lying husband, a philanderer, cheat
Mine will read – FOOL.