pome

A Chin Puppet Called Linda

So the joke about two men in a bar goes
That one of them represents death the other life
To keep the funny from failing
Though either way it fails because we all die.
Have you noticed when someone keeps from laughing
out of ice-cold negation, buckling down
the beast in its unknowable dungeon
drifts and amplifies
heart refrains in spring
Peddles backward to a row of seats
With bodies there and a Chin Puppet
reciting this poem making you die once more.
What is it we're reaching for, really
what is the promise we willingly bold our breaths for?
And here comes Linda all decked
for the solo bedroom show all decked
in starry grief
hand me a tissue
she's going to cry.


-Clippet Master