Thursday, December 9, 2021

the sad clown and the nasty child

by horace p sternwall

once there was a circus
that traveled from town to town
with an elephant, a strong man
and a particularly sad clown

willie the clown was a weeper
he wept for the human race
and every time the sun came up
it saw streaks upon his face

aurelia was a nasty child
and questioned what she was taught
and contemplating willie
cried, what a lot of rot

the only reason that you cry
is because you are paid to do so
you have been assigned a role
by whatever and whoso

if they tell you to laugh, if they tell you to sing
if they tell you to shoot your dog
the world is a wheel that spins in a void
and you are but a cog

life is a performance
for the delight of priests and kings
but if i got them in a room
i would tell them a few things

you are new upon this earth
the clown replied with woe
you take one step upon the road
but have a long way to go

i might if i were so inclined
call a curse down on your head
for i am secretly the master
of the living and the dead

the clown paused in his declamation
expecting the child’s derision
but she was headed for the gypsy’s tent
vanishing from his vision

the sun beat down upon him
and he thought, what now
and happily remembered
that it was time for chow

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