They all go back
to their chairs to
sleep, write, eat,
shit- do whatever
they did before.

The scribbles will
sound appetizing
but won't be read.
Mr. Chairman slops
carrot mush onto
my dinner plate.

No creamed corn.
All day parades,
yes. It could've
worked out and
hope still has
a shiny bubble.

Clowns are happy
even when they
are stuffed in
that tiny car.
They know it's
for the good
of all involved.