Sometimes You Have to Hang Your Head Down Low

Sometimes you have to hang your head down low
to contemplate the Great Beyond –
assume the half–supine position of a jilted gigolo
miffed that he can’t transact a bond

for which he might derive a hefty payment.
From down around your crotch
your point-of-view can often find a way (lent
by daemonic sentinels on watch

to keep you on the qui vive when you’ve stumbled
through your awkward and inevitable life –
so that you have a chance, by getting humbled)
to see the blunt hilarity of strife.

Whatever this may have to do with you,
or what may possibly come after,
or if you cry because Existence seems askew,
at least you’ll cry from helpless laughter.





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