Appealing fine humor

I am funny but I’m the joke kinfolk.
Know how the dust on Mars is colored
like the first layer of blood you let out
on accident, and how it runs around plains
that are infinite on Mars for there is
no economy to barter over inches? Darwin
would find no finch alive there,
nor a better morning than what dropped
him from it when he was a young mate,
though the motion of all things dead
would fool him how we fool us.
I carry a finch in my back-pocket,
near the napkin equally dead too
like a tail for spring.
I know what crushed its beak
and I am no fool to notice
you are not laughing now and
that floored-cloud on Mars smiles like you.

~ by Jeremy on January 15, 2011.

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