COULROPHOBIA



You see the harmless and funny descendent
of Garibaldi,                    I see
the ghosts of Pagliacci, Pennywise
and John Wayne Gacy.                   Shambling
mockeries of men, white clay corpse faces
with crosses on their eyes,              noses
and lips red with Y. pestis and dried blood,
giggling uncontrollably at the futility
of existence.                                       No good

in it.

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