I always laughed at the idea of the loony bin.
Kooky crazies cackling in clown costumes,
introducing themselves as Bill Clinton.
Everyone says their parents are crazy,
but few have a mother like mine
who with a bullet ruined her new hair-do.
She really did wear clown makeup once,
when she sobbed after a soiled soirée
and left the smudges all over her face.
Sometimes she wore a clown wig, too,
when she nervously yanked on her hair
twenty-three times in a row.
Maybe her red nose was the way
she huffed and heaved, unable to breathe,
when she got all frazzled and fidgety?
My clown gave the performance of a lifetime,
because no one ever realized it was a show
until the circus lights faded.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Samantha Friskey lives in Bowie, Maryland, which is only an hour away from her playground, Washington, D.C.