On Acting Silly

By Allan Lake

PROMPT — The way I see it ...

With self-inflicted extinction now pretty

likely but likely not pretty, I’m more

likely than usual to opt for optimal silly.

More likely to give lip to eucalypts,

dance down a footpath when a rogue

fiddler cuts loose like there’s no tomorrow.

Beggars know the score in dying moments

of the endgame. Violin on fire, forests on fire,

clock on fire, like someone’s political pants.

Ruthless Truth – now in confinement –

couldn’t compete with slippery alternative.

Never has. Not as creative. Think juicy

creation stories versus dry science.

Where’s the harm? he asks with eyes, legs

and fingers crossed. Take a big breath then

do The Hokey Pokey, do Whirling Dervish,

make modern dance moves but do not

make a fuss. What else, under ‘disappointing’

circumstances and cosmetic circumcisions.

Skydive without pretty parachute for a last

laugh while listening to Bruce Cockburn’s

“Last Night of the World?”

In shortish time remaining, being of un-

sound mind, I hereby choose silly.

Nobody likes an angry crybaby tearing

up parchment of what passes for History.

Words, words, words, blah, blah, ha!

Fall about laughing then, in the end,

on your pen or sword. Take your prick.

Goodbye to all This, especially that flirt-

atious, scampering Muse. And farewell

to the kids and kittens. Born too late.

I shall not fume; silly upstages gloom

or any pointless vow of silence.

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Allan Lake, originally from Canada, has lived all over Saskatchewan, Vancouver, Cape Breton Island, Spain, Sicily, Tasmania, Western Australia, and Melbourne. His latest chapbook of poems, “My Photos of Sicily” was published by Ginninderra Press. Such journals as The Hong Kong Review, Tokyo Poetry Journal, The Antigonish Review, New Philosopher, and Fabians Review have published him.