Light Verse for Times of Terror

When comedy and tragedy combined
And Sirens of apocalypse did sing
I looked for laughs by contemplating ‘Mind’
I noticed thought (I mean I heard the wings
Of bats who from my belfry flutter blind)
I do believe I got a little ding
When ducking past the superego’s glare
I fell into a vat of old despair.

But nothing keeps me down for long, I roll,
Or rid myself of worries with a shake
(And yet this optimism takes a toll).
I claim, “I am but what I am” (a flake) —
God said that too, and Popeye, on the dole,
While he was waiting for a boat to take
Him out to sea where he was free to think.
For me, my boat’s a rhyme, my sea’s a drink.

Constraint, it seems, is good to some extent.
Look, Popeye found his freedom on a poop;
And through a burning bush that soon was spent
God found a way to give Ole Mose’ a scoop.
And by this rhyme, now, all my thoughts are bent.
But be you too constrained (as with a loop
Around the neck like suet hung for birds)
And you can end up rather lost for words.

Why waste my effort trying to improve
The traffic of this idiotic brain?
I see the thing is stuck within its groove
And even when I hit it with a cane
The senseless thing remains – I’d like to move
But parting from the head can be a pain.
Besides, it’s clear the speaker is the spoke
That let’s the vicious circle run for broke.