life is a burlesque—
a yearning lusting seething
punch line
of strained absence.

too long
the hand leads the heart
to thorny wreaths atop
a bathetic catastrophe—
worms carol the Joker
while anvil nightmares
rouge the earth with blood—
grinning serpents wring the grail
to flow manna through the rivers,
and all who embrace the sun
are cindered to dust.

the irony of life
is the irony of death—

as we eat ourselves raw
with bony chops,
slapstick vengeance
of the final course.

won’t you dine with me—
in this Jester idyll
of flayed piñatas,
hemorrhaging candy
to the knee-slapping,
side-splitting,
diabetic children
groping for a luminary,
with jejune lips.

on this ephemeral stage
the ingénue survives the lead,
and the program lauds an intermission.
blink once and miss it!
blink twice and die alone
to the exuberance of fools
filling their seats
and their drawers.

cue rimshot—
take a bow!
exit stage left.

~Michael Gervits, 25, math tutor

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