Make what you will of the clowns
They went to school to engage in such mummery
As we enjoy, aloft in the rafters,
Sipping Dos Equus from bottles
Because, well, we’re thirsty my friends.

I will steal a kiss from you somewhere
Between the Lions and the trapeze act
And little children nearby may either
Oooh and ahh, or turn their heads in
Disgust or embarrassment. Some little girl
Will tug on a mother’s sleeve and whisper
“What are they doing, mommy?”
And a shopworn woman, old before her
Time, will smile and say, “I don’t know, dear.
But I can vaguely remember.”

Ah, the tinkling of our self-absorbed little bells
The ones tied about our toes and fingers
And in the ringlets of our hair.
How bright and mellifluous the sound when they ring
And announce the best in show may well be sitting
In the stands and not upon the backs of dancing elephants.

On the Jumbo Tron I will propose
And you, caught by surprise, but really
Not, will hold my hands while the crowd cheers us on
Yes you will say, and I will pull you in my arms
And we will kiss and kiss and kiss again

The tigers may or may not then leap through
The flaming hoops to the tune of crackling whips;
They have, after all, seen this show before,
And to paraphrase Shania: it don’t impress them much.

09/08/2015

Posted on 09/08/2015
Copyright © 2025 Ken Harnisch