a few lines on my stupid clown nightmare

I had a nightmare about a clown
which sounds cliche but hear me out

I was back home, alone, in the kitchen
the clown was out in the yard, watching

it was late evening, the light was failing
the clown was smiling; I started wailing

we both made a dive for the kitchen door
I managed to get there a second before

locked it, stepped back, he started to laugh
we stared at each other through the safety glass

which is when I started to shake and choke up
my wife touched my shoulder and I woke up

look – I totally get why ‘clowns are creepy’
but it always seemed a little too easy

the hilarious facade, the howling depression
the brooding heart, the happy expression

but there are too many other things undermining
the tension between evil and painted smiling

like flowers that squirt and shoes that honk
trousers that bounce and hammers that bonk

not a bucket of blood but a bucket of confetti
not a kitchen knife but a rubber machete

even if the pointed teeth are all smeared
with blood not lipstick as it first appeared

so normally I’d struggle to keep a straight face
if a murderous clown invaded the place

except – here I was in the family kitchen
screaming as I tried to stop one getting in

am I the clown? scared of myself?
what does that say about my mental health?

anyway – apologies! dreams are boring
guaranteed to get you yawning

so are clowns creepy? absolutely! okay!
don’t have nightmares, have a nice day

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