You and I can Laugh

   
You and I can Laugh
 
The empires rise, the empires fall.
Let’s vote to curse them, one and all.
And bigots, with their twisted hearts,
Are all a bunch of worthless farts.

We shudder at what empires do
And at the zealots’ actions too.
But though we often weep at this,
We also loudly boo and hiss.

Some bomb from up on high and lob
Their missiles, while some other yob
Straps on his belt and so can blow
Himself and others up, below.

So women, children burn and die,
As all the politicians lie.
And you can ask the reason why,
Or murmur, “My oh my oh my.”

But also, you and I can laugh,
And break the loaf we share in half,
And chew on what we have and think,
“The empires and the bigots stink.”

And if we’ve fermented the grape,
We then can our ancestors ape,
And drink, in times of woe, a glass,
And say, “This Trump’s a blowhard ass!

“That Sanders shed a spot of light,
But didn’t get a chance to fight.
And Clinton, sadly, ain’t the best.”,
Then toddle, darkly, off to rest.

The world, that humans make, is worse
Than we can limn in paint or verse.
But we have heard an ancient rumor:
“They cannot rob us of our humor.”

So we can lose our friends and kin
And see a world that’s plunged in sin.
And though our tears are flowing, still
We laugh, because we’ve kept our will.

And though they try to break our hearts
As well as bodies, with their arts
Of horror, still, with toothless grins,
We smile, but don’t forget their sins.

There's laughter, in the times of joy,
And humor that we still employ
When all around is horror. Laugh,
For laughter breaks the devil's staff.

They might destroy, they might defile,
But you and I can stand and smile.
And though we dangle each from ropes,
They cannot rob us of our hopes.

For others still might well recall
That empires rise and empires fall,
That bigots too are doomed to die,
But truth persists, despite the lie.

2016 July 25th, Mon.
Brooklyn, New York