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of laughing


the only way to stop him
laugh will be to kill
him
but what’s laughing got to make you
a killer
& that would only make the joke so grim
the joke’s on us;
the laughing man needs no jokes
as long as he got the sacks
& rags to cover his bare body
and newspaper sheets to make his ridiculous caps
an’ he laughs
when, sometimes,
he sees blood on the street
i panic at the sight
of tomato sauce stains
& he cackles harder seeing
the logical men
the more such men are,
the more he is lost, roaring & hooting
i’m usually in awe,
usually dumbfucked when i see logic
sometimes he’d chortle
seeing the powerful folks
those with guns and books and money
maybe he knows, maybe he knows not
gunshots are louder than mad laughter
& bullets are as normal as his cackle
insanity is as thick as the voluminous books;
oh boy, the world is echoing
with guffaws
as the war between
the saviours continues
as wise people flip
the pages of their books for wisdom
as brave folks seek for power
in the barrel of their guns
as we keep fucking in the maze
and the man is in tears, laughing
tickling himself.





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