The Clowns Poem by Zyw Zywa

With ropes in the dark
guys hoist the canvas up
along the poles of the circus tent
the red sanctuary of the gang
of fools like the people on the street
at whom you and I can't laugh

the veteran who lost the war
the silver diva with her wig
the vagabond, the stupid hulk and all
men with the authority of a mustache
ultimately myself too
and my assistant who laughs at everything

A fake nose fits us all
we have a hammer, a big one
bigger and biggest, we walk around with an ax
in our head or a feather on the hat

What does it matter, the curtain falls
and is raised again elsewhere
the music plays on
around and around and around