kerry rawlinson

Laughter as a Change of Direction

only the good          tempered thoroughly
                comprehend the effort,
struggle & strain            of being good

tempered. the woeful             & wretched
                trudge along life’s tragic
ruts of dread              obstinate as fire ants

because it’s less effort;             clinging to
                the collective’s line
that there’s got to be sugar              ahead.

unstable forest paths             are complex
                & often wrong; & journeys
of blame grind on              through infinity.

if you tried laughter          rather, you’d find
                 it’s serious work, exacting
& sore. stretching             fixated necks

smoothing those             petrified antennae
                into arcs, cracking
atrophied mandibles             into minuscule

grins. it’s agonizing              but you’ll find I’m
                 correct: the shock of one chuckle
sets off tectonic shifts           in life’s direction.