The trail of the funny,
Meanders ever backwards.
In an infinite spiraling loop,
With interchangeable punches and lines.
Artificial sounds emanate,
Out of a plastic wasteland.
Humorless squeals, mocking surreal,
And the brightness dims on the watchers.
Noxious gasses; getting giddy,
A spike through Gaia's heart.
Serious smiles straining and selling,
Under grim furrowed brows.
Chest thumping love monkeys,
Shrieking for more.
With a merciless mocking and lust,
And empathetic indifference.
Screams, tears and maniacal laughter;
Hysterical rides and rails.
Gods write comedy and mortals cry,
Of a lost cause's humor found.
Enter the killing zone.
Where prey is canned and scanned.
Wrinkles in time,
Within frayed edges of impossible dreams.
Soulful, hopeful traces of irony,
Masked by tears shed at its passing.