The Carnival – Tin Horn

Tin Horn


Tin Horn stands on a deserted city street
strewn with the rubble and chaos of war

empty storefronts yawn like the gaping mouths
eye sockets of bleached skulls lining limestone cliffs

in the distance
he hears
a clock strike the hour

a voice calls out
“Hello” softly

he reels in his step
he must be dreaming

stooping to pick up
a piece of paper that floats to the ground

he reads words
smeared and smudged
written in a terrifying scrawl

“And look at you boy
gone crazy in the night
barking at the moon

and look at you boy
you are lost”

he pauses

“You have thrown
every anchor
of Saving Grace

and you have cut the lines!
and my god!” he reads
“Oh my god,
you’re still lost!”

he tears up the paper and screams: “No!
No!” he stumbles around a corner running

a crowd of faceless people
their clothes tattered and bloody
emerge from the ruins of a cathedral pock-marked
by mortar shells

he hears the voice again
Hello” this time with a sense of urgency
“Hello!” yet, it is as soft as the flutter of a dove

the crowd raises their arms in unison
they point at a tower
with a huge clock hands frozen

Tin Horn!” they call his name!
“Tin Horn!” they speak in a soft babble murmuring

Tin Horn!
The time! Check The Time!”

out of nowhere
the voice he’s heard becomes a dove
and lands on one of the hands of the clock

time stands still…and so does Tin Horn

he turns pallid
an incomprehensible grief consumes him
and he sputters like a child:

“I have searched through books
and scoured the ink on printed page
and have I found an answer? no
I could not find one there

“And I have tried to catch the rainbow’s end
in hopes to find

a pot of gold but only found a bucket of illusion”

he trembles with an unspeakable sense of loss and sobs
groaning in his sleep

(To be continued…)


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