Open The Door
It chokes me
(though, not with its hands)
I struggle to catch my breath
When its grip tightens I don’t protest
But instead smile more
And let air escape my lungs in a vain effort
As guffaws take hold
Knock-knock
It might begin
A faint voice tempting me to open the door
Knock-knock
It tries again, persistent
And even when it’s not appropriate,
I must admit I let it in
The jokes themselves have no particular architecture
And I must, again, admit
That ‘knock-knock’
Is rarely their beginning.
Also, in case you hadn’t noticed,
They seldom mention airplane food.
You know, I heard this one the other day
A guy walks into a bar
A guy? No… a bat maybe
Or a fish? But they can’t walk.
It must’ve been a one-legged blue swan with a bad case of halitosis.
Yeah, that’s it.
While elusive and impossible to grasp
Humor lies somewhere between
The unacceptable and the outrageous
It goes just too far
But not over the line
It consumes your body
The everyday melts away
Laughter is universal
And even though I might breathe a little better without it
Who really needs oxygen anyway?