He Who Laughs

Laughter from the right

Follows laughter

From the left.

 

In the deep of the night

This is no laughing

Matter.

 

Early morning birds

Pick up the task of

Driving you mad.

 

Laughter in the afternoon

When life seems sadder

Doesn’t help.

 

In the evening — do not ask.

Heaping up the pieces

Of your day-self.

 

Nothing like a full-blown moon

And a mouse in the room

Daring you to sleep.

Published online March 01 2012.

Salvatore Difalco lives in Toronto and works as an Italian translator. His latest publication is The Mountie At Niagara Falls (Anvil Press).


Poetry Only cover image

This piece was published in ‘Poetry Only,’ the Spring 2012 issue of CV2.

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