The Funny One

The rush that comes

When the palms hit the table—

When quick wit

Works faster than you’re able

To discern. The turn it took,

On the way to the tongue.

You become—

Euphorious.

It’s a glorious feeling

To be

At the head end

When the butt’s stuck

Between rebuttal

And the scuttle of laughing limbs.

It begins

As an accident

And quickly grows.

It knows

How to work the room.

And soon

It shows.

Each smirk received—

Answers recede.

I think I peed my pants

Is the tango,

Is the dance,

Is the number.

One rule.

There is but one.

Despite the fun,

Don’t fumble.

Come to a close

When it knows

There’s

Not much more to say.

You’re funny, doll.

Let’s keep it that way.

Ireland / Fall 2013