Judy

No raw sausages strung
together like a handkerchief trick;
no bipedal crocodile, rampant
and castanet jawed;
no avenging constable in blue
who proves that not all men are bad;
no throttled voice nor coat hook
nose nor children's squealed approval.

Once as a toddler -
it comes to me like an instant photo half-developed,
like fragments of a piss-up -
I braved
the back of the tent.
From the barber pole colours
a flash of green
then a lance of water
burst against my face
like a cumshot.

O Punchinello, where are you now?
Who will scrub these rug stains?
Why is no one laughing?