Joke
You think it’s tuff surviving
as an email from your ex,
the spreadsheet you prepared
for your boss.
Or that card
you meant to send your
boyfriend to apologize.
Try bein’ me.
It seems
no one ever understands me.
Oh sure. They smile, nod their heads
once in a while.
Maybe a chuckle.
Usually. (Please insert a blank stare here.).
But on occasion. A guy
will get that gleam in his eye,
expose a toothy grin and say,
“That’s so fuckin’ funny!”
That’s when I know. He really gets me.
In such moments,
Goofy enjoys a bone
to rival those of the guys
hanging out in the DVDs on
the shelf below him.
Sometimes I’m a pun, or a wisecrack.
Typically. I’m the amusing story
that annoying clown in the office tells
about the latest psycho she’s dating.
Which nearly creates an awkward
moment for everyone each time.
Odd, how she’s always dating psychos.
I show up here and there
for all sorts of differing reasons.
Before a meeting to break the tension.
During an uncomfortable date to force some distance.
At a party to get me some.*
But between you and me.
The reason I’m usually there.
More than anything.
I’m easy.
And I just like a cheap laugh.
I
am
a joke.
*70 percent of singles say a person who makes them laugh is even more attractive than someone who makes them think. Coincidence?
