Again, the Great Migration of the Clowns

Again, the Great Migration of the Clowns:
The loons, the doctors of philosophy,
The fakirs and the fakers, endlessly
Debating the debates, the ups and downs
Of policy, and whether evening gowns
Should be required or — on fire — towed to sea,
Accountants, engineers come, rolling free,
And other entertainers, with their crowns.

These are the Titans, Lords of running jokes,
Big feet, and runny noses, ravishing
And humid. Love, like fear, is on the wing,
Directionless. Although one red wig smokes,
All’s well: the flooring creaks, the singer croaks,
The wolves hum, and our guides go wandering.