tuesday’s struggle
forgotten by thursday
sunday at the latest
if it makes the sermon

the monday after
smiles, everyone
smiles
fantasy island awaits

if there is
grotesquerie 
rampant in the land
we’ll even laugh

and fulfill instants
of our fondest hopes
until the next discrete challenge
rears up

if we were honest
with ourselves
all would be wails
and frowns

but a little bread
a little circus
a little zombie
a couple of dancing stars

and substitute vampires
we’ll bare our teeth
with them
smiles everyone

the dead men in their excellent
tropical weight suits and
magical fulfillments
command us from childhood to smile 

just once,

take a life.  not a fly or
roach life, either.  a life

with fur and live eyes.

you’ll either cherish 
what you were
before
or what you were 
afterward…
or, rarely,
what you were
in the moment…

but you
should never speak
of the last
in public
or polite company.