AS A CLOWN
He slides into the costume
before knowing it;
cannot bear his image
in the glass for it is
too bright, outlandish;
cockeyed fat hat
over horns of the untamed;
gigantic shoes hide
hooves to startle all;
pants so voluminous
they hold thoughts which twist about,
white gloved hands suggest
elegance reduced to lackey;
mouth a target and
nose a misplaced plum;
scraggily hair his own,
below each diamond eye
an eternal tear.
Bionote
Ray Greenblatt has read his poetry from a barn in Vermont to a retirement center in Miami to a biker bar in LA. His work has been translated into Polish, Japanese, Greek, and Gaelic. He has been nominated several times for the Pushcart Prize and his poems haven been set to music at the University of Pisa Italy.
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