The Comic
A casual nihilist
Hateful, glittering, mocking,
Cold, and in the end clueless.
Kid in the upstairs window
Waiting gleefully to pounce
On the misfortune of mishap
Life’s pratfalls validate him.
Waits for a hammer’s whack
Crushed thumbs; old ladies
Slipping on ice. Twins conjoined
At the hip, stuttering John’s
Staccato in the speech class.
A predator, imitating
Other’s pain with hops, hoots, howls.
His comedy a lynch mob
A late night television
Joker who makes old ladies
Dying in nursing homes pray
For darkness to descend, thank-
ful when last rites arrive with
Songs and prayers to attain
A glimmer of clarity
As the fading light recedes.
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