up or DOWN it’s still a party…

Feb 19, 1962 – 4pm
Rexton St.
Norwalk California,

I am five years old – it’s my birthday – the clown just left towing his carousel trailer behind a battered old – mmmm – I did not notice the make of the – I could be wrong, but it might have been an old Chevy or a Pontiac maybe – I am 5 after all, what do I know about cars?

For sure, it was an old car towing a carousel on the back of a trailer and the driver was a clown – not a real clown but a man dressed up like a clown – I thought he was a real clown, but my Mom said he was a man dressed up like a clown – what do you think – I mean I am struggling to understand the difference between a man dressed up like a clown and a real clown.

If he wasn’t a real clown then I don’t know any more what a real clown is, and that is kinda scary – when you get right down and think about it, what is anything…?

Almost out of my view and trailing some smoke, I saw a cop pull in behind the questionable clown – this cop stopped the what ever he was – a man dressed like a clown or a real life clown – because he didn’t have reregistration tag’s on his trailer and that apparently is a Bozo no-no, even for a clown.

I wish I could tell you more about my 5th birthday party but I can’t. I do know one thing tho, my father got drunk and acted kinda funny, but there was nothing remarkable about that cuz he did that everyday, I mean didn’t your dad…?

Poetman

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10 responses to “up or DOWN it’s still a party…

  1. to laugh or to cry.

    that is the question.

  2. renaissanceguy

    Breathtaking!

  3. Dame – Laugh now or cry later…and ask no questions except of those who would attempt to keep the above silent…and then shout, which is something I know you know how to do…

    RG – You can breath now…I have no wish to ever take that away from you… 🙂

  4. renaissanceguy

    Poetman, you must have realized that I meant it literally. Your poem packs an emotional punch that really took my breath away.

  5. Maybe it was John Wayne Gacy 🙂

  6. Were you wearing the red suit? Did the rose bush prick you? Some kids never got a clown. Sounds more like a narrative than a poem. Hey, 3 quarts a day and baseball on the radio!

  7. laugh, cry, then shout — i like it, i like it.

  8. RG – Yes I knew…I was kidding back at cha – also I was seriously stating that though I differ with you that I would never try and take your breath away…it was a two way communication with a hidden meaning –

    Currer Bell – I don’t know …but come to think of it he did wipe his brow a lot with a handkerchief and I will never forget its monogram – JWG – wow another close call for Poetman…I am lucky I guess

    gallicman – loved to know what choo talking bout…Santa – a rose that betrayed you, a car you once owned that you finally junked, or that you did not get a clown? oh it is clever piece of true poetry masquerading as a narrative – it wasn’t easy – it took time, and thanks for noticing the accomplishment…

    Wow dame back for more – thanks, tis an honor…

    Poetman

  9. Really, there were two red suits standing next to a rose bush with smiling faces. Believe it or not, in a color photo, in the 60’s. Some kind of prosperity.

    Really, though, one person’s narrative is someone else’s poem. Great work.

  10. gallicman – thanks for the compliment…

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