He runs round the ring with a fireman’s bucket
acting like he’s going to chuck it
stops, goes, stops, goes
pulls out a line of flags and blows his nose
jumps in a fire truck, sneezes
the whole thing falls to pieces
jumps back out, kicks it
fetches a play school toolbox to fix it
a big rubber mallet and a tube of glue
gets his hands stuck fast to his shoe
hops around howling
one minute laughing the next minute scowling
the shoe comes off in his hands; it starts to ring
he scratches his wig and stares at the thing
laughs, gives a shrug
cautiously holds it up to his lug
‘Hello? This is Bojo the clown…’
puts his thumb up, gurns at the crowd
who roar with applause and laugh out loud
but suddenly the lights cut out
and one fierce spotlight picks him out
something’s changed; the act seems different
he’s not so cute and insignificant
he stands there, watching with glittering eyes
‘Yes – they’re ready for their big surprise.’