Clown

Who is the clown— you or I?

A selfish imp,

emotion awry.

A twinge of guilt,

some shifting sand,

a box of toys

for restless hands.

And if you honked

your reddened nose,

I’d laugh, I would,

and sing in prose.

A clown is me,

a clown is you.

The two of us—

we break our rules.