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Funny Life


by Darryl Price


Our earth is just trying to live
another day. We are the earthmen
and earth women and earth children
no matter what else we believe 
happens after we die. I'm
the king of broken dreams. I didn't 
ask for the job. It just came
to me. I lived and learned nothing.

But I dropped poetry wherever
I went, figuring that might 
pay for a little insider 
wisdom here and there, but the earth 
is just a little sad shape where 
I sit. I know everybody 
thinks it's a funny life, but I'm
not sure. Some folks might feel laughed at 

instead of played with. All things must
pass, even the earth, carrying 
all of our friends around with it.
The king of broken shells. The king 
of the mushroom sandwich. The king
of light dreamers. King of the sad-eyed
monsters of love. Earth didn't 
ask for any of this. The bombs

for breakfast. The bombs for its birthday.
The bombs supposed to make everything 
better. Supposed to answer
all our prayers. Nobody 
can be the king of the blues for 
too long without going crazy 
for seaweed. The earth is fed up, 
but still enjoys an evening out
 
under highways of endlessly 
breathing stars. We're lucky that's the 
way it is. The king of the strange 
brotherhood. You know what that means.   
Of this song and no other. King 
of losing one's way. King of oil 
lamps in the unlucky snow. King
of taking love as far as it 

can go before falling down the 
stairs like a wild rubber ball. Earth
only has us. The other planets 
have their own problems. The earth
only wants to get out of her 
head in a cloud for awhile. Who 
can blame her? The king of not walking 
fast enough. The king of crabs.
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