Satirical poem written by BW Derge in 2011 about shedding the artist and poet identity (seen by others as a clown) in favor of a capitalistic conformist lifestyle. Get a real job!
"The Clown"
Oh,
What is this poor sad clown going to do now?
Jesus Christ! I hope he doesn’t rant again-
I hope he forgets he is himself-
I hope he smears off that make-up
And gets a real job.
-
Either way, whatever.
Forget him. He is nothing.
Insignificant.
-
What matters is that in dreams,
Coasting circus icebergs collide
Like finding familiar faces in July
And everything floats off
Into weighty emptiness
Because the sky may look blue today,
But those vacant gaps will fill soon
With white clouds.
Slowly,
Darkness approaches always
And gathers…
-
And Jesus Fucking Christ!
The clown’s painted face has become a storm.
Your silly towns will all be washed away…
And then what is that poor sad clown
Going to do?
Written by BW Derge, All Rights Reserved 2025
© USA
This was a poem composed in 2011 called "The Clown"
Published in the 2013 collection, Everywhere But Elsewhere
