These Children of Poetry by The Plastic Clown

These children mount the stage

& staple polaroids of hope

to pierce youthful breast

their blood drips with meaning

to flaunt at the spotlight

& I remember

that I’m selling poison

mixed with the sweet juice

that I squeeze

from the fruits of my subconscious

dropping the ice-cubes

of my humor

into the cocktails I serve

from the stage

dropping ice-cubes


(that’s French for stairway)

(to show that I’m cool)

but I have to pour these drinks

that will hurt you

that will cut you

that will kill you

& I remember

& can still sometimes see

the landscapes these children reveal

the brightness

of their illuminations

their light ruminations

hurt my eyes

& burn the vampire

chunks of my pride

that I keep wrapped

in an un-protective

cloth of fear

the gauze that

I wrap everything in

The gift of romance

When I’m not seeing clearly

& I will not kill these children

(to gain my focus)

nor kill my father

nor fuck my mother

to profit by the rules of psychology

or the rules of philosophy

or(to be honest)

the rules of religion

but I will kill you all

at least a part of you

this stage will be my last stand

& I will be master of the universe

or nothing at all

please vote for me

vote for me

I will make you drunk

with my words

if you can hear this

I am already manipulating


I will molest you

We will be lovers



What a friend we have in Jesus

& I am not here to usurp Him

but I will always be yr friend

vote for me


master of the universe

I promise to try not to


but if I do

then you can too

in the church of the open bar

heaven is just well-told


& we can’t achieve

heaven on earth

but we’ve certainly been

pointing in the wrong


help me help you


Published by

Jeremiah Walton

Jeremiah Walton is wary of writing a bio.

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