buffoon

laugh … please feel free the fat old man is here for your entertainment ‘there must be a purpose that we strung the aged fool along for’ … right?? it’s not that I feel like an impish idiot (though I do … completely) the contrary element is that it’s not like ME … I’ve always been in command - always been the giddy-up in the group the jump-to-it-and-do-it guy not the court jester not the clown but somehow life has caught up with my body (when I wasn’t looking) and it feels like I’m in alien skin - like the flesh that hugs my bones is not mine and it won’t do what I ask of it - what I expect it to what it should … oh, I’m laughing, too the thought of how entirely doltish I must appear … the bumbling, fumbling boob as wet as he is sore bruised and burnt and as old-fartish as they come … if only we’d caught it on camera we could all laugh again we could roar and tee-hee ‘til the cows come home - bells on my hat and shoes reality like whiteface on my cheeks dancing a fatuous jig jiggling and giggling for the crowd’s amusement while the man - the once proud and valiant gentleman inside … turns … to dust. Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, June 19, 2024