Waiting For The Punchline

New poem.

Because the glow of
orange-pink streetlights
on falling snow
just before it touches ground
before dawn
reminds me
to adore the sacred nature
of mundane existence. Because

the toaster does what’s asked of it
without fail.  Because
of the oven failing, appropriately, when it reaches
its appointed moment of obsolescence. Because
of how my age and diseases
are killing me correctly, every cell
following its correct path, even
the broken ones behaving perfectly well,
exactly as if they are broken. Because

nothing ever answers
my prayers specifically
and I am instead told so often
in so many ways
that I will have to
make myself, because
I’ve been told so often

in so many ways
to depend upon watered-down,
man-cheapened deities
for neither identity nor protection,
yet whenever the pre-dawn snow glows

I am always caught by its appearance
as if seeing it for the first time
and end up fluttering within,
enthralled by something like hope

that this will not be the last time I see it.

Mostly, though, I stay because
something tells me
that the greatest pleasure
of dying
will be the laughter breaking out
all over the new life
immediately after my arrival,
and I don’t yet know enough to get
the Punchline
so I can laugh
long and full 

with the Others.

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About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

One response to “Waiting For The Punchline

  • Eileen

    You continue to send me into laughter, not so much funny ha ha, but funny true and so perfectly described. thanks thanks thanks…..been a rough week or so and this was just what I needed…..yay

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