comedian

D.D. had a way of saying nothing
even matters with
a deadening smile.

 

it tried to pry its teeth out by the rotting
spongy mouldy gums
to see if it cried.

 

the blood and pus that followed only served
to make the joke seem
oh so funny we could die.

 

the flow of comic bloody props had halted
but the laughter it would
carry through the night.

 

the jester starts again the next day
until there comes a time when
it itself can die.

 

but time forgot to follow little D.D.
is the punchline
rotting from the inside.

 

tried and failed and missing death but falls –
applause – the funny man
who always seems to smile.
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