Send in the Clowns

The six of us convinced ourselves that the steaming hot shower vapors would sweat away the alcohol which threatened our early morning exams, so we donned towels, rolled a joint, and sprawled ourselves across the bathroom floor’s mosaics.

The party was crashing until Carol (petite and pretty), with one plain white towel wrapping her torso and another her hair, slid her tiny feet down into my cattle boots and, without the merest trace of a smile began a graceful, if jocose “Chopiniana” while the rest of us accompanied her with Squeeze’s, “Black Coffee in Bed.”

The stain on my notebook

Remains all that’s left

Of the memory of late nights

And coffee in bed.

Oh, now she’s gone…

Three boys, three girls. If any of us somehow did not love Carol before that night, we certainly did ever-after.

Who needs lion tamers, or trapeze flights of fancy?

Call them all back, and send in the clowns!