a joke
A poet walks into a bar No this is not a how a poem should start I heard this joke before but A poet did walk into a bar He ordered an empty pint of tasteless beer The yellow nothing stuff dripped from between his fingers I heard this joke before but A skeletal poet did walk in the bar Ordered a blank page and a vacuum Words fell on the floor Our poor Skeletal poet from the stool Couldn’t move Beautiful women and men with long vacuum fingers from the floor sucked the words I heard this joke before but I could never hear it till the punchline One by one, bones fell from a wet Beer-stenched stool On the floor: A blank page A broken pint An old fountain pen And a used poet Whose bones could never be burnt For the beautiful women and men Have taken every last Word Out of him