I will not be swallowed by your rotund
laughter. Nor pierced by your carnival
eyes. No, what I would do is to reach,
into your face in that way you disrespect
my personal space, and with much malice
squeeze that bogus red nose of yours.
Who was it that first decided for us
that clowns and children go together?
Is there a requirement by The International
Clown Workers Union that their painted faces
must incorporate a systemic sociopathic
flat affect to go with their smile?
Never reassuring, never comical.
If it were not for such faces, we might
find your big blue feet funny. We might
laugh at your baggy clothing. But no,
your face freaks us out - it's so obvious.
It's the first thing we see, and all I want
to do, is honk your nose and run.
Michael Allyn Wells
The Mag
No comments:
Post a Comment