To laugh at a laughing man is like a naked man jeering at a man with a coat. HAUSA.

0 monsieurclown00perr_0069

Fear of Clowns

Over summer the circus came again to the Regatta Grounds

and all up and down in clear view of highway intersections

half-a-dozen huge jumping-castle sized inflated clowns

were blown up ridiculously and roped down in various front yards.

Six metres tall, with orange hair, the pink nose, big eyes and luber lips

and bobbing blue hats taller than the brick veneer and carport.

Sitting squat and wiggling in the wind like silly super-sized toddlers,

with their grimacing gigantic gargantuan gobs.

Coulrophobia is a ‘fear of clowns’, and arguably it’s well-founded.

I don’t know how Hobart Coulrophobiasts cope

when the circus comes to town and flogs its bill.

There’s no road out of town safe from the grease-paint monsters.

One Sunday morning when the winds really gusted up

I saw one of these jumping-castle clowns jump its fence.

It bounced like a nightmare nursery rhyme ball, its ropes dangling,

all the way over a six-lane highway to finish stupefied against a cyclone fence.

Tony Brennan

http://www.australianpoetry.org/poem-of-the-month/february-6/

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