Will Halloway

Jim burns to touch the fire; I'm the one who sees the sparks catch. Cooger & Dark's ride offers free trips on a rusted carousel that steals tomorrow to sell yesterday — and Jim's already sold his ticket. My dad's a broomstick scarecrow against the dusk, all I've got to swing at nightmares. I don't walk into the Dark with fists. I carry a whisper, a laugh, the date on a library book. Let the carnival think it's hunting boys. We'll see which shadows scream last.