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Posts Tagged ‘April Fools’

There’s no fool like an old fool. Does

that mean that for the young,  foolishness

is a disguise, donned like a pair of gloves

meant to conceal motive and skin? In a sense

to laugh is to dissemble, rather than

to feel something real, to feel the fool

as when we inhabit the mirth. A span

of breath expelled, the inhale that fills

the lungs again with deceit. A man

walks into a bar and asks, Where’s

the bar tender? Wait. Not a man,

a termite. No point in ducking, there’s

a punch line coming. These days I try

to be the fool, the laugh that’s not a lie.

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