i keep dreaming of amusment parks, carnivals, zoos, circuses. all basically the same place, in the same state of decrepitude. places of narrow alleyways & mutants. not in an entirely unpleasent way. but it has been going on all year. this is the basic theme of two thousand & five. darkling locations with tents, mine carts (what else runs on train tracks?), wrought iron cages, albino versions of everything- animals, barkers, tight-rope walkers. everything. wooden crates stacked up upon themselves to make walls, carnies living out of wooden trailers that they hitch to the train that never comes. this is what i keep dreaming of. sometimes it is closed & i am alone, sometimes only the side-show freaks are there ("gobble gobble, one of us!"), sometimes the circus animals alone keep me company- roaring lions, dancing bears, oh my. rarely is it in full swing. but there i am, looking for my painted toy soldier. which by all logic would lead me to believe two thousand & six will be the year of haunted woods, rusty pricker bushes, roses climbing up iron trellises. pricked fingers on spindles & orchards of poison apples. i'm coming home, kids, daddy is coming. cutting pierrot's mouth to make him smile bigger, & giving punch the stick with which to kill his wife, the dragon. poor boys! pierrot's suit is covered in dirty handprints, exiled from heaven, & punch darling has tricked the devil & can never claim his deserved rest in hell. oh woe is me!