Clown Life
        Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

This life won't start without you and it's never without you       and stops on its own when you aren't behind it and pushing       though like you it's old enough now to go it alone       no need to hold the lady's nice hand even when it's scary       & when all is done and said there are (like apostles       from large to small and back again) twelve of you inside that pink head you keep shaking like a cowbell       but only one at a time       one to a customer       make a line       and you're the only one of the many yous who has to stay until the end       until that dark day comes when even Mr. Pierrot       Mr. Tardy       Mr. Late-to-Lunch       snaps himself inside out       brolly-in-the-wind       from the old scar beneath your ribs where he's been folded all these years like pigeon's wings       tucked away like a cat hiding under a car seat       boneless & breathing slow       Mister Pity-Possum       Mister Sad-to-Say       Mister Kitty-Go-Boom       the motor still up front where you left it and still running       the crowd still gathered 'round to watch as you try to turn off the barkers & the flashing lights       in the ring-toss guess-your-weight kewpie doll litter of your midway mind       where the third time is always the charm       the one that gets you the nose or a wig       or one big shoe full of chalk dust and popcorn grit       your face greasepaint-white with envy       as the big tent empties       and alone at last you       from this mad & clown-car life       tumble out.

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from New Letters
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission