by Glen Martin Fitch
When I tell jokes
I want roars at the end.
I learn them,
trade them.
Humor has a code.
The biggest laugh
comes when a solemn friend
lets drop a bomb,
amazed we all explode.
I'm healthy and
it's seldom I get ill.
When weak
I get confused,
dismayed
and wilt.
The ailing learn their cure and
flex their will.
But I, when sick,
to call in sick,
face guilt.
I sense your feelings
better than my own.
It's foremost in my nature
to be kind.
To give away my power
I am prone or else
I pay for harshness
in my mind.
Forewarned,
although compassion is my rule
I'm ugly,
shocking, brutal
when I'm cruel.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011