I’ve never seen so many big red noses.
Or people stepping on each other’s feet.
The air smells of face paint and rubber hoses.
It seems there’s naught but bozos on the street.
And as the rally cries ascend to laughter,
while here and there is tossed a custard pie,
one wonders if there’s clowns in the hereafter.
Is heaven just a circus in the sky?