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A Dead Drunk Clown by David McWane
this isnt mine, but this guy is amazing at writing. i figured id share with all of you.
there used to be a clown down in Harvard Square and many people would walk to him he was a clown from top to bottom big green and yellow shoes a short red jacket white pants that reflected the summer’s daylight beckoning tourists for some good old New England fun but he was a drunken clown a horrible sight when you got close we’ve all been tricked once by the drunken clown of Harvard Square never forgetting your last image of him before you jolted back the cakey makeup the blood shot eyes dying teeth and sharp breath whose taste lingered on your pallet he smelled of thick body odor and lousy booze and his deep, clogged-with-ash utterance hollering at you stayed with you as you walked on he would trick parents and scare children girlfriends gasping when the clown got close enough to smell their hair and a hand around their waist boyfriends would shove him after the quick groping but the clown would just laugh louder this was his joke and no one was his match he always laughed last one day, I sat and watched him for a bit his balding greasy hair his staggering movements his caveman hairy arms, long and black and thought when was his first day out like this? what triggered it? what did the people who know him think of his stories of fright? does he stand at his bathroom mirror giggling as he gets ready? or was it a serious matter? and how long does the drunken intoxication keep the joke fun? does he go to the packy store as the clown? I wanted to read his story know where he’s from and learn when the clown idea got set down on his front burner maybe he just enjoyed being a deceiver to the innocent I mean— he always seemed happy…’ish I was impressed a bit that he was so organized and driven at being a drunken clown day in and day out he’d be in Harvard Square screaming laughing swindling I was told today that he died drunk in the middle of JFK St. face down in the middle of the street is that what he wanted? for he did accomplish more than anyone else of being a dead drunk clown
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theres a ska band on my street. a little ska band, everybody thinks that theyre so fucking neat |
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