'Hmm, I thought,
These recent poems
Are not as good
As the previous lot'
'And yet
Everything is okay
Because nothing is okay;'
I laughed at this thought
And when I saw
The imperfection of this laughter,
I laughed even harder
And so on, and on
Perhaps my writing
Poetry days
Are numbered
But what of it?
This new "happiness"
(I shall call it that for now
For lack of a better word)
Might be worth it
A belly laugh every minute
Might well be
A good replacement
For the usual emotional basement
Who cares about scaling
Linguistic sky scrapers
When one is already
Breathing freedom's vapours
What use is scribbling all day
As compared to laughing at dismay,
Smiling at disarray,
Shrugging off distress
Knowing all is okay because nothing is!
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