(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)


There are those who pick on folks,
To provoke as a joke.
Then realize too late this movement made,
Leaves them awakening...
From the pavement where they've been laid.
With it then to decide,
They were the ones victimized.
By someone not in the mood,
Or time to find a punchline...
The one found funny.
And laying dazed on the ground.
Should have known to explain,
To that one person picked,
Shown to be humorless.
And obviously impatient,
With those who laugh at their expense.
Might have found the joke also funny.
If fingers were not pointed in their direction.

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