I watched intently
As three clowns wept
In an old cafe
One of them wailed
He had enough
Of making people laugh
Another grieved
He'd rather starve:
'Clowning makes
Mockery of me.'
[Red circles on their cheeks
Smudged by tears paint
Sad abstracts of absurdity
They couldn't see.]
They drank pensively
Tears dripping
Into glasses fast empty
Suddenly a toast
The greyest raised:
'Cheers!
Tomorrow a clown
I cease to be. '
To his funeral yesterday
Only a few came to pray.
All clowns
Drawn together
By misery.
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