There are people who will jump to write
On every 'bit' and 'but' they can.
One topic, very popular
For years has been 'The Modern Man'.
But clowns too, have been written on.
(In more ways than the usual one-
Which is: the sunny-yellow clothed
And sunny-hearted ray of fun.)
We clowns have been imagined as
Evil things with evil looks,
Who engage in acts that one
Cannot depict in picture books.
(Of course there are too many things
That if you write for Children's books
Can get you thrown right rightaway
Into the lowest class of crooks.)
We've been romanticised as men
Always capable of making
Sacrifices, for spreading
Laughter when their hearts are breaking.
Someone having read such things,
(Such things will drive the world berserk)
Asked me if we ever feel
Ashamed and tired of our work.
I did not answer him then, but
I'll tell you now, I'll tell you once,
No, we do NOT squeal with joy
At the thought of playing dunce.
The dreams we had as little children
Didn't include falling down,
And we would love exerting extra
Muscles just to frown a frown.
But I'm not saying I'm not happy,
I feel quite happy on the whole
About my job. It's all because
Of each misguided, hapless soul
That comes to watch us circus clowns.
How bored and boring they must to be,
If corny gags that make us gag
Are what they truly love to see.
They look so stupid when they laugh,
(Especially those whose paunches quiver),
It's funny that they pay to sit
In the heat, and sweat a river.
Tiny boys--- who suck their sticky
Thumbs, and sticky candy bars;
Believe that Rudolph lent his nose
To us, and brought us here from Mars,
Believe our voices were born squeaky
And our hair, a frizzy mess---
Make me feel supremely
Intellectual, I must confess.
So yes, however much we hate
To play the perfect fool for you,
It's worth it, if we get to see
You act the fool so nicely too.