Moving conveyor belt
trapped onward
tight and secure sure
so we hoped roped
into a misty tunnel
my brother and I rolled
like double waves
over the front seat
we got this little white
knuckles clutching our belts,
who knows what could be lurking.
bloody red lights form streaks,
foam roamed in furry barrels
from door to door
the mitter curtain dropped
like a guilty witch mother
saw the dread in our smiles.
Look at the dancing ladies!
she laughed and pointed
pacified we laughed and pointed too
until the dancing ladies
parted like the Red Sea before
the sun.
Nancy Byrne Iannucci’s poetry has appeared in Typehouse Literary Magazine, Hobo Camp Review, Three Drops from a Cauldron, Clementine Unbound, and elsewhere. She’s a Long Island, NY native who now resides in Troy, NY. Her debut book of poetry, Temptation of Wood, was recently published in 2018 (Nixes Mate Review).