Sunday, November 20, 2016


I had the thought that I might write a joke
Of such a sort as might well irk some folk
Because it would demand of them they yoke
Their minds to tasks when they prefer to laugh
At what comes easier than from carafe
Into the cup outstretched. I often gaffe
When I attempt to write to foster mirth,
Or speak in such a way as has some worth
In terms of bringing smiles to the earth;
I try too hard. It is a common flaw.
The same is true when I attempt to draw
As when I will at high speed flap my jaw.
But still, I thought I might leave a blank verse
With neither ink on page nor lines rehearsed.

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