If my Enemy is a Clown, a Natural Born Clown by Ishmael Reed

If my Enemy is a Clown, a Natural Born Clown

i tore down my thoughts

roped in my nightmares

remembered a thousand curses

made blasphemous vows to demons

choked on the blood of hosts

    ate my hat

threw fits in the street

got up bitchy each day

told off the mailman

lost many friends

left parties in a huff

dry fucked a dozen juke boxes

made anarchist speeches in brad

the falcon’s 55 (but was never

thrown out)

drank 10 martinis a minute

until 1 day the book was finished

my unspeakable terror between the

covers, on you i said to the

enemies of the souls

well lorca, pushkin i tried

but in this place they assassinate

you with pussy or pats on

the back, lemon chiffon between

the cheeks or 2 weeks on a mile

long beach.

i have been the only negro

on the plane 10 times this year

and its only the 2nd month

i am removing my blindfold and

leaving the dock. the judge

giggles constantly and the prosecutor

invited me to dinner

no forwarding address please

i called it pin the tail on the devil

they called it avant garde

they just can't be serious

these big turkeys