Big Bridge #10

Export: Writing the Midwest


Michael Gause



Went to my favorite bar today
head to toe in a clown suit.
I’m serious.

I walked through the door,
big feet and all, and not one face looked up.

I honked my nose,
drained a beer,
even made fun of the bar whores, laughing.

I played the worst songs I could find on the jukebox,
even sang along, still nothing.
People kept talking like soap opera stars
about politics, beauty pageants, and television shows.
You know, the important things.

So I said fuck it,
and took my big feet home.

I don’t know what this town’s coming to.
Back in my day, if some clown came in pulling that shit…
I’m just disappointed, that’s all.

Somebody really shoulda’ kicked my ass.

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