The Town Clown – #poem #dVerse

Everybody knows him, he’s
The Town Clown
You must’ve seen him hanging round
The local bar, or
Liquor store
Clowning for pennies
Singing Karaoke
So badly
That everyone buys him a beer in sympathy
And shares in the hilarity
Conjured up so effortlessly for them by
The Town Clown

But when it’s time for curtain down
He’s lonely
Because his
Fairweather friends
Have all gone home
They all have homes to go to, unlike he who
Sleeps alone
Under the bridge
Out on the edge
Of nature
On the outskirts
Of the big-domed tent of life

And when he’s really lonely
Our town clown
Starts speaking to the pigeons
Who all shit on him
From a great height
Like all the people he has met throughout his life
Except more honest
And when the pigeons fall asleep
You’ll find him talking to himself
And he continues as he walks along the street
Next morning scrounging scraps out of the bin:
It’s just another clown act, and it’s all the same to him.

I’m enjoying my time over at the dVerse poets pub today, they’ve spurred me on to writing both prose and poetry today. msjadeli is hosting poetics at the bar tonight, and has called for one of the following:

1) Write a poem using the word clown or a word – real or created – with clown as the root. OR
2) Choose a line from one of these three [featured] poems and create a poem of your own with it. Please be sure to include which poem you chose and attribution for it in your post.

I chose the first, I hope you enjoyed it, and do head over to dVerse to read more clown poems and/or take part yourself.

21 thoughts on “The Town Clown – #poem #dVerse

Add yours

  1. Oh, I just love this. It’s hilarious and sad at the same time. I especially adored these lines:

    “Starts speaking to the pigeons
    Who all shit on him”

    I started cracking up. The imagery–it’s perfect. Fantastic writing and take on the prompt.

  2. Growing up, I was always the “class clown”. Your piece is poignant, raw, rife with painful truth. We all feel like we know this fellow; kudos to you.

  3. Sad but poignantly true. I sometimes used to secretly envy the bench life lol but of course that’s my inner latent wino talking. ;)) Well written dear Ingrid.

  4. Yeah, the whole story is always waaaay bigger than anyone who hasn’t been there can imagine, eh?

    I know this guy, too.

    Great Write.

  5. We have one of these in Norwich, Ingrid, a man who is well known for his terrible puppetry to awful music in the marketplace. Your poem brought him to mind instantly and made me smile. Nobody knows where Puppet Man goes when he packs up at the end of the day. If only more people cared about these Town Clowns, maybe they’d have better company than pigeons that shit on them.

  6. I love the part that you wrote about the birds shitting on the guy like people have done all his life. That is so true of the demise of so many people who end up alone and on the street.

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