Pagliacci

painting by john wayne gacy

Pagliacci

regardless of regality, the royals,

the philosopher kings must have their fools,

so woody became emmett causing

coulrophobia to rage rampant as everyone’s

children tasted terror when confronted

with those big floppy shoes,

that pinkish-green brillo hair,

capped by the bulbous rouge proboscis,

like bart simpson who feared Krusty so much

he suffered from insomnia, chanting, 

“can’t sleep, can’t sleep, for the clown will eat me”;

like slim pickens as clete the rodeo clown, in

the honkers, gored by the brahma 

inches short of the barrel;

like richard basehart as il matto taunting zampano

dangerously in la strada;

like jimmy stewart as buttons in de mille’s epic,

never seen without his make up on;

like lon chaney, sr, the killer clown, whose silent

placard read, laugh, clown, laugh;

like red skelton as dodo delwyn, his character

a hiding place from his own fears, letting

clowns become his personal obsession, 

peopling his paintings garishly; 

like stephen king’s demon clown in it,

the child slayer, the muse for 

the rock group fear the clown, 

boldly clogging our ear buds,

a reflection of the real terror, portrayed

fearlessly by brian dennehy as

john wayne gacy, cataloging the images 

of gacy’s prison clown paintings,

and trying to stifle the stench 

of the all those young boys 

strangled and buried

under his innocent-looking house,

so even though the famous federico

loved his clowns from an early age,

there is nothing remotely dulcet

about a child’s dark nightmares--

do us all a large and pack away

the commedia masks, recycle

the halloween rubber smiles,

wipe off that pound of pancake,

tear off and feed the noses

to the rottweilers,

and as for the clowns,

just don’t send them in.

Glenn Buttkus

May 2012.

Posted over on Magpie Tales 118

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