The Discombobulator

by Lynne Hockley
Many an amusement park will boast a coaster greater,
but I have ridden each and every sluggish imitator,
and my experience confirms no solid indicator
that any ride is better than the Discombobulator.

It’s normal to be nervous as they start to strap you in.
And if you’re not, you should be, for it binds up to your chin
with safety belts and padded bars before it can begin.
Then with a screeching, jolting jerk it slowly starts to spin.

In swooshing, swelling circles it will swiftly gather speed,
reaching such amazing heights, your nose may start to bleed,
twisting through dark tunnels like a thundering stampede,
so steep and fast the contents of your bladder may be freed.

Down and down a drop that hurls you under the equator,
your stomach hovers at the top, resigned to join you later.
Your cheeks blow back into your ears; you need a respirator.
But, oh, such pride if you survive the Discombobulator!


Text © Lynne Hockley reprinted from Rolling in the Aisles, published by Meadowbrook Press. Illustration © Stephen Carpenter. Any copying or use of this poem or illustration without consent is unlawful.

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