Friday, April 2, 2021

NATIONAL POETRY MONTH

There is nothing funny 
about perfection,

though the smiles 
which pass by me 
on these blithe sidewalk passengers 

are tracking much more like 
amused than happy. 

And yet, 
there must be something 
rare which is trapped 

in the bright April wind
which makes us 
want to laugh—

and not from the inexorable 
glee of satisfaction,

but as if 
we've all just been 
taken-in 

by some fiendishly clever 
immaculate trick.