Clever Scam Of Clowns

Clever Scam Of Clowns
© Surazeus
2025 06 13

I take my brain out every night at nine 
and place it on the third shelf in the fridge, 
because it shrivels hard as the peach pit, 
so it will sprout long twisted vine of wit 
which I employ to build the wordless bridge 
where I rule the world with Queen Clementine. 

Concerned the television clown of everywhere 
will crown himself new Emperor of Earth 
then host the grand military parade, 
I wear the mirror mask my mother made 
to write the wingless book on second birth 
exposing vile crimes of the billionaire. 

Unpuzzled world view, ancient prophets built 
from fractured memories humans have forgot, 
rewrites the narrative for what is true 
despite how I assemble every clue 
I pry from rusty hands of the robot 
that keeps demanding I absolve its guilt. 

Apprised with fanfare of the camping game 
translating proverbs from forgotten towns, 
I ask the lonely bear of Avalon 
if she can show the way to Oregon, 
but I get tricked by clever scam of clowns 
to purchase tinsel crown of global fame. 

I cannot find the bookstore of my heart 
somewhere in ever-shifting maze of doors 
though I keep walking toward the somewhere else 
in vain attempt to claim land of the Celts 
when my ship gets wrecked on alien shores 
in brave new world not found on ancient charts. 

While mother cooks spaghetti on the stove 
I watch the Star Trek television show 
where men encounter supernatural gods, 
till agents wearing masks and waving guns 
kick in our door and throw us in the snow, 
so I flee to live in the moonlit cove. 

Orpheus strums the lyre of Mercury 
and chants exotic spell of singing trees 
to misdirect attention of the king 
who hops about on broken angel wing 
with arrogant intent to steal our keys 
though I attend state school of sorcery. 

When agents of the government arrest 
the teacher and the cook at the grade school 
because their eyes are black as dragon blood, 
I sail home-built ship on the rising flood 
to rescue people with the psychic tool 
who hold story books in silent protest.