media circus and bad police work

the bright red nose declared him clown
for a day but for the shoes he was

in brown leather and teared cheeks
mad with life and his small car

he held the key, the turkey in the brown paper
bag with bread crumbs

the celery, the onions, the carrots
and he wore his big black parka

the hour drive through thick sleet
rain and sometimes snow roads slick

and slithering down the backroads
mad with life and his small car

was dying killing him almost maybe
not quite yet the officer said

later when his clown-white skin was
no longer half as funny.