Editor's Note





Submission Guidelines

Archived Issues

Clyde T. Kessler's poetry has appeared in publications such as Free Zone Quarterly and Kota. He lives in Radford, Virginia. This poem is part of a series he calls "Goblintown: Poems for ghosts and the children of ghosts."

Dark Planet is designed and edited by Lucy A. Snyder. If you spot any errors, or if you have any comments, please contact her at lusnyde@cyberus.ca.

All materials copyright 1996-2001 by their respective creators. No stories, articles, poems or images from this webzine may be posted or published without the written consent of their creator(s).

The Clown Was Late

by Clyde T. Kessler

A clown came dancing all green in his voice
with golden antennae on a purple crown.
He said sir your soul is paper and glue and ice.
I said the Halloween you want is a wild horse
kicking and biting and begging for sugar
and it galloped away five months ago
with children and neighbors and all the stars.

The clown went sprawling past thirty-nine cars
and throwing his face. He ran with fires
and sparks and smoke, like a stone at midnight
burning its distance down the street and past the sky.
I closed my door, said hell with Mars.