The gilded age watching over
The laughs echoing from the stage,
The lights dancing as they turn the page
Transition to the next game, checkmate.

I've been here the whole time
We've been discussing the Bidet
And the cult following they accrued
A total of thirty followers ensued
Enough to make a documentary.

A burgundy suit all picked out
For a wedding in June to Jess and...Jess,
All ready in a chic black dress,
All the suggestions flow and go and know
And the audience rings with participation
With suggestions--with bait.

Hook line and sinker, baby,
Knock it out for the win,
Come on roll us the dice
And spin us some sin.

Back through the tunnel,
Lights through a funnel,
Guiding the way, pushing away,
Away from King's Theatre
Away from the laughs,
Away from Sam and Sam and
Jacob and Jeremy's spats,
Away from Lou and Kimia too,
Vic is left on the stage shrugging,
Away from them too.
Giavani, a ******* queen,
And Shutup! Kurt needs to say something...
I love you all and to thine self be true
There will be nothing like this performance ever again,
And that memory is thanks to you.

It was a sparkler,
Alone in the night,
With our laughter we held it alight,
It burned for longer,
Longer than eight nights,
The oil from the latkes
a bubbling, browned delight.

A moment in time,
A moment of laughter,
A moment of silence before the disaster,
A time and a place and a place for the memories,
Don't underestimate the time you spent here.
Remember everything you can and hold it dear.
Cherish the improvisation,
The luck, the dice, the trolls, the rights,
Let it all simmer,
Take it to a boil
Under these spotlights.

I've been tickled
By reality
Laughing at
my lonesome life

“I laugh when I’m sad,”
I said.

And then
I giggled
Softly.

"There's a time and a place" the gravedigger said,
"For humour, and this isn't it."
But the thought process currently stuck in my head
Is: "Maybe it is. Just a bit."

The businessmen said, in no uncertain tones,
That my silliness simply won't do,
And quickly went back to their laptops and phones,
But I still think the opposite's true.

There's no harm at all in increasing the stock
Of the cheerfulness in this cruel world,
And, often, my humour has been like a rock
While the pain inside me has unfurled.

I cannot explain why, when I start to cry,
That, sometimes, I laugh while I do.
In the depths of despair, where men want to die:
I can see the ridiculousness too.

So if I should be sad, and you see me laugh,
Just know I'm still dying inside,
And that I simply have to follow this path,
Or tears will flow out in a tide.

The laughing sounds
they must abound
filling space all around
to make ripe the ground
for the anguish to be drowned.

I'm laughing
But am I really
I feel so dead
So bleak
It feels like I'm on autopilot
I don't even feel happy
I just feel numb