Ragged Clown

Ragged Clown Poems

Charlton Heston walked right in the front door and pushed his way through the crowd,
Spilled Billy Joel's drink on the table in front of him on the way by.
As he squeezed past Madonna at the bar he nearly snagged himself on her everything
But he didn't slow down and she spun and caught herself.
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The Best Poem Of Ragged Clown

The Crowds / World Champion Of Everything

Charlton Heston walked right in the front door and pushed his way through the crowd,
Spilled Billy Joel's drink on the table in front of him on the way by.
As he squeezed past Madonna at the bar he nearly snagged himself on her everything
But he didn't slow down and she spun and caught herself.
He went straight over to Bruce Springsteen's table for 6 and sat down in one of the 5 empty chairs.
They stared at each other in silence until they both had holes burned through the backs of their eye sockets.
Then they stood up blind and drunk and walked outside to gather their followers.

Charlton Heston was immediately flanked by a throng of centurions and slaves, each one carrying a bullet with someone's name on it.
They walked slow as gypsies toward the water tower trying not to get stabbed by its shadow.
It was nearly high noon before they all realized that they had forgot to take their guns to town.
Charlton Heston picked up a rock and personally struck the centre-fire primers on everyone's personalized bullets.
With each centurion and each slave's hand blown off, they sat in the shade of the water tower and hoped it would spring a leak.
The sharks in the water tower smelled blood below, and so the water never came down.
Only the vultures like to take their meat when it's dry.

Bruce Springsteen's followers wouldn't go anywhere so he settled in the middle of them.
He explained to them all that this desolate place was their homeland and to endure the suffering of their homeland was glorious.
One man stood up and held up a flag. Another man stood up and the first man made him sit down again.
Bruce Springsteen looked up at the sky and the two men were buried under a sea of flags.
The sea of flags was glorious too. No-one ever emerged from that sea.
Bruce Springsteen journeyed around the perimiter of his camp and it took him nine days.
When nine days were up, the people in the middle had all drowned.

Madonna came outside to see what was the matter. Shielding the sun from her eyes as it shimmered off her was impossible.
To be able to see, Madonna stripped naked and walked into the sea of flags just to see if she would drown.
Madonna's followers stayed by her, and more than could be counted drowned naked in the sea of flags.
Madonna survived on an island of naked dead followers, and then swam back to shore.
The water tower was leaning, and threatened to lash out at Madonna until she poked it with a stick.
Some vultures descended to do the bidding of the sharks and repaired the holes Madonna made in the water tower.
Then in an instant, she was invisible, blending in with the desert, vulture, shark background.

Billy Joel had got a fresh beer for himself and each of his followers. They sipped as they stood and watched.
Everyone paused a moment to help one another wring the beer and the tears from their mock turtlenecks.
The ground was saturated as a flood that might come only once in a hundred years. This brought tears to the vultures' eyes.
The water tower was released and the sharks tumbled out of it and drowned.
Four imposters tore their masks off and paraded around the stalks remaining of the water tower's legs,
Chanting holy words intoned with the music of Charlton Heston, which caused a great storm.
The sand enveloped all that could be seen there to humankind, and tucked it under the belly of the Sphinx.

The next day I spent the whole day sitting inside trying to get the salt stains out of my sheepskin coat.
I wondered about those bullets, the ones that all had my name on them. I wondered who they struck.
Every moment reminded me of a mockery, a full fledged one with talking turtles, and crows that wouldn't shut up.
When I realized that my sheepskin coat had been changed forever, I realized that I could put it aside, or not. It wouldn't matter either way.
I finished chopping the rosemary and put it into the pot with everything else.
I opened the window and let the steam from the stove top escape, leaving my cheeks both warmed by the steaming pots and cooled by the fresh chill air.
I went to bed that night, and when I got up in the morning, I was the world champion of everything.

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