A bit late in the day for verse. Victim of mirages of all sorts, I turn an inward smile at myself. What's left to do but laugh, and (it being self-directed), I ought to have plenty of material for a world-class act.
Laugh, clown, laugh!
If it burns your insides
that your eyes won't be met,
that you throw bottle after bottle,
fight battle after battle
to no avail.
Step on the rake
and hit your face
with the handle.
You make the world
a better place
by bringing hilarity.
Dance, clown, dance!
No comments:
Post a Comment