There used to be balloons.
Rotating girls in revolving skirts to spiralling tunes.
There were stain glass windows in kaleidoscopes.
Climbing acrobats and daisy chain ropes.
There used to be rivers of streets running to the city’s gaping mouth
and compass boats blown like ticker tape south.
There were jugglers and minstrels and jukebox sky-scraping towers.
There used to be heart-beds made of flowers.