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About This Author
 Writing poetry allows me to exercise my imagination and share it with others. I strive to write for the benefit of the reader using carnival fun mirror images of my life's experiences.
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| It was back in the spring of ninety-one, A heck of a hot spring I tell you, son, Professor Rising did hypothesize, Theories no scientist would recognize, A strain of virus he secretly created, All water sources he secretly baited, Then the virus could eat that part of the brain, That commonly drives most sane men insane, The nations of the world would know at last, A world without a single bomb to blast, The first step Professor Rising must test, On a population smaller than the rest, He selected a small town’s reservoir, Into the town's water the virus he'd pour, Three days later I was well on my way, To see a hot chick met online that day, To Starbuck’s quick for this could be the one, If nothing else I just might kiss her some, At a corner table, she sat as planned, She had big floppy gloves on each hand, I noticed as she quickly turned around, She squeezed a horn that made a honking sound, She proudly wore a big red painted frown, This chic was dressed exactly like a clown, She danced up to me and waved as she honked, Say what? I was sure I was being punked, Then I noticed everyone in the store, And those dancing in and out of the door, Clowns with red noses, wigs, and floppy feet, There were clowns dancing up and down the street, I drove downtown where I saw the same thing, A surreal scene that taxed my reasoning, Paper, food, and refuse strewn about, Inside a small car, twenty clowns did shout, “Hey, mister! Hey sir, smell my carnation!” They bathed me with their viral concoction, First I was mad then a little chuckle, Then enough to make my belt unbuckle, With a rooty-toot-toot and a howdy-do, The next clueless clown we transform is you!
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