No, I am not saying goodbye to anyone that is leaving the Trump administration. Frank Avruch has passed away.

Who is that, you may ask?
Well, from 1959 to 1970, he was Bozo the Clown. The first Bozo. The best Bozo.
And we will miss him, those of us who knew him from childhood, watching a colorful clown on black and white TV.
He did charity work for UNICEF. We collected dimes in covered coffee cans for Bozo because Bozo needed them for UNICEF. What the heck is UNICEF, you ask? Don’t you know how to use Google and Wikipedia?
So, this is a clown who inspired poetry. What? He didn’t inspire poetry in you? Well he did with me. Let me show you.

Immortality
They say a clown can never die,
And at the table has a place,
And here’s a little reason why,
It’s all about his face.
When one clown stops the life of laughter,
And stops running the human race,
Another clown can pick up after,
And keep wearing clown one’s face.

Do Not Fear The Bozo Squad
It is really, truly, very clear,
You should not fear a clown, I hear,
Identities disguised in paint,
Malevolent of thought they ain’t.
A clown is meant to make you laugh,
And I can show you with a graph,
That silliness saturates their very sheath,
And rarely hides evil underneath.
- Sleep Soundly, Sweet Bozo
- Silly songs sound in synchrony
- As the symphony sounds softly
- Sincerely saying in sweet song
- “Sing angel songs, sweet Bozo
- Your spin-off will last long.”
Lyrical Lessons from Life
I am still in lazy mode, not quite making the effort for 500 words… But, in my defense, a picture is supposed to be worth a thousand words. So, the picture above should count as 1,042 words because of the words in it.
Poetry is like that. Even bad poetry. This doggerel verse is capable of meaning far more things than it specifically, literally states. But I shouldn’t point that out. You should never explain a poem… or defend a poem… a poem should simply be. Even a bad poem.
And there are those who will say it is not a bad poem. It speaks to simple farmer wisdom, the kind I learned while yet a boy in Iowa 50 years ago. Did you realize that I made this meme on a photo of my own unweeded flower garden, grown in the unforgiving Texas heat?
That’s all there is to today’s post. A picture/poem… a tiny bit of wisdom… on the first hot Sunday in June.
Leave a comment
Filed under commentary, humor, photo paffoonies, poem, poetry, strange and wonderful ideas about life