CHUCKLES IN THE MIDST
 

For it's all so much,
the same,
that it is,
different.

For it all matters,
so much,
that it doesn't matter,
at all.

For, it is all,
so old,
that it,
is young.

For, it is all,
so boring,
that it becomes,
total excitement!

For, it is all,
so phony,
that it becomes,
ever so real.

For, it is all,
so serious,
that all we can do,
is laugh.

For, it is all,
so important,
that we can toss it,
into the trash.

For we are all,
so smart,
that we don't know,
a damn thing.

For, we are all,
so alive,
that we don't,
have a pulse.

For, all that,
we trust,
so quickly,
becomes dust.

For, all that,
we thought,
so quickly,
becomes naught.

The fish that,
you caught,
eats you,
for its lunch.

the song that,
you sang,
was really,
the birds.

The life you,
are living,
is actually,
long gone.

©Written by: Ed Kassirer
May 21, 2003