Who goes to the dance with a bug in their pants
to frolic and clash with a zippity dash?
The dead cannot rest nor be born again in the skin
until the rockets red glare in some Jesters underwear.
Be sure you attend but only pretend
to be who you are including the scars
better be willing to be put behind bars.
The clowns have gone on
to their own unsung song
their shoes strung along
all over the lawn.
The Kings and their Queens are mostly not amused
feeling a bit helpless and clueless and used.
The Jester strolls into our lives
that’s his gig
and unravels the mystery
of jestering a jig.
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