Wednesday, 1 April 2015

bill

it's five minutes to midnight
and i'm taking a clown's advice,
it's laced with ennui and cynicism
and dick jokes that
we can both laugh at.

i buy him a meal because
i can see that he has been crying,
and over his black coffee steam 
he tells me to abandon the tightrope
and hitch myself to a carny
cos the best any of us 
can expect is mud.

outside the world remains 
ringleader distant, and it's late but there
is still news to deliver.
i promise to plant mushrooms
on his grave so he can carry on
entertaining the living.

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