The Clown's Harpoon Room
Foam from a nearby jet wash splatters the silk flowers which line the car lot at Jumbo's. It causes a layer of white lint to cover the plywood Head in the Hole which flanks the club's entrance, Jack puts his face through and becomes a painted jester screwing his mouth as the soap snow hits his lips. The muffled sound of Crystal Gale's 'Talking in Your Sleep' plays from a bracket in the ceiling as we walk through the set of steel doors. Framed on each wall are stacked velvet paintings of the bar's namesake clown. A girl in a plastic wig evades my eyes as she dances on a laminate podium. She dismounts the stage when the radium dial of a dark clock reads 01.23 am and a vacant spotlight replaces her.

Excerpt of a text by Lowe Poulter