Sounds of feet clinking on a catwalk,
Sneakers, boots, fleet-feeting forward,
Called to action by digital clowns in designer suits,
Repeating endlessly to another crew the same thing,
“Despite Costello’s slip up…”
“Welcome to the soft count room….”
A clown in a non-designer suit, from Savers or some other thrift store,
Goes hoarse, going over his script,
Forty-five second snippets, succinctness equating to success,
Sending tourists and their children forward,
Commending their Disneyland brutality.
In the business of entertainment we all play a part,
Dress up and make believe, fake missions and faker money,
But it’s a living.