Not meaning to eavesdrop, I heard the lady say
her nephew was a full-time paramedic, part-time clown
and imagine this guy at a children’s birthday party,
twisting long balloons into animal shapes
until a car runs a stop sign on the nearby street,
crashes into another.
The clown lets go
the untied end of a green doggie, the kids giggle
as it chases its tail briefly, then flittles to the floor
with a final spluff.
The clown pivots (as much as a man
wearing shoes that big is able to pivot) and stumbles outside
in his polka dot jacket and baggy pants, his soles
slapping the driveway, knees pumping extra high
to keep from tripping.
his EMT kit from his Chevy S-10 pickup
and lunges for the wreck, finds one driver dazed, the other
unconscious. Our hero clicks on his headset,
calls his buddies at 911 while bandaging
a nasty head wound.
The injured man revives for an instant, whimpers
and lapses again into unconsciousness.
Later, he will
describe to all who will listen
how he crossed over into the great beyond
and before returning, saw the pasty-white face of God,
the crimson grease-painted lips, the multi-colored mop
under the pointy hat and that huge blessed red rubber nose.
© by Richard Allen Taylor.
Used with the author’s permission.