by September 2, 2015 0 comments

eyes on no one,
he rants and raves,
head back,
looking at the upper corner of the waiting room,
told to shut up,
he quietly grins,
as if the joke is on others,
the ones missing out,
too sane to argue with,
the specters,
in the upper corners of the room.

editors note:

He plays straight man for the ghosts of the joke; makes us the punch line. – mh clay

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