|Photo by Huub Keulers|
Beebo was an angry clown
Life had not been kind to Beebo-
His father was an alcoholic
His mother, neglectful
Neither of them showed the slightest parental pride when
Beebo was named “Class Clown.”
“Sophie Bloom’s daughter was valedictorian,” his mother carped
His father complained, “Don Reynold’s kid at least got ‘Hardest Worker.’
What do we get? Class Clown.”
“We’re not laughing,” they said.
They just didn’t recognize Beebo’s talent
Or see his potential.
Nonetheless, Beebo enrolled in clown college
He passed face painting with flying colors
And juggled like gravity didn’t exist
But ballooning was a disaster!
Beebo could not manipulate those damn balloons-
He felt like a gorilla trying to sculpt the David.
At a 5 year-old‘s party
Beebo constructed 2-legged dogs that made the children weep
And presented the birthday girl with a balloon tiara
Topped with what resembled an erect phallus
He was promptly expelled from clown college.
Beebo again felt misunderstood and rejected
He was without diploma, without job, without money
He was an angry clown.
There is nothing scarier than an angry clown
Except possibly an angry clown with a gun
This was the position in which Beebo found himself
As he strode into the First Community Bank
With a gun, a red nose, and oversized shoes.
He pointed his gun at a young teller
Who immediately burst into raucous laughter
Beebo became even angrier
He aimed the gun just above the teller’s head
To fire a warning shot
It was more like a warning ‘pop’
As a small white flag flapped from the gun’s muzzle
With the word ‘BANG’ written upon it.
The entire bank was in an hilarious uproar now
Beebo didn’t know whether to feel honored or humiliated
He chose honored
Beebo gave a contrived clumsy bow
And left the bank as the people applauded
Beebo was still a misunderstood
But not quite as angry.