The horror of living becomes too much for Boffo the Clown.
Smacked out on junk,
He plunges into a hellish nightmare world of
And furious addiction.
Children sense the clown's smoldering despair;
They are bold with unkind remarks,
And stomp on his toes,
But his enormous footwear stands him in good stead.
People seem bizarre and frightening to Boffo,
Groaning under the weight of their stupid pretensions,
Stuffing their phony, painted-on smiles
With inedible gobs of sickening cotton candy.
Boffo's life becomes a dull round of farce and fixes.
He is so sick of balloons!
Twisting them, nearly strangling them,
He makes another dog,
Once, he made a balloon that looked like a Cass Corridor whore,
The very image of his faded and vacant Linda.
The child threw it down, screeching ear-splittingly for Boffo to "do it right".
Another night, sitting in front of his mirror,
Boffo carefully places a neon green fright wig on his head,
And adjusts his bulbous, bright red nose.
"Are we really beautiful to God, as some say?
And if so, why then does He toy with us,
Setting us down in a chaotic and violent world?"
During the performance that evening,
Another clown, Bird Brain, trips Boffo while they are chasing the clowns' fire wagon with leaky, polka dot hoses.
The crowd guffaws.
Still face-planted, Boffo reflects upon the terrible schadenfreude that characterizes human struggle.
Back in his trailer,
The opiates sometimes make Boffo contemplate the Divine,
Though, just as often, he simply nods in front of some ridiculous infomercial,
Linda comatose and drooling at his side.
Occasionally, these ponderings stay with him into the next day.
Stepping into a pair of gigantic yellow pants,
Taking care to rig the suspenders so that the pants will fall down at the proper moment,
Boffo wants to know--
Is life just some sort of silly joke?
But then it is show time,
And he follows the plumed horses and the acrobats out into the lights.
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