excrement of waste matter gray matter; none of it matters

laughter is canned and full of
preservatives
when it fills up my ears

fire alarms would be most welcome
instead

I want an excuse to ooze out of my mouth
and into the wet pavement

a premature evacuation

where I will undergo some sort of
change

and learn a moral lesson

the studio audience will make noises
appropriate to my situation

they will applaud for me
they will cry and buy my book
on Amazon

later,
Oprah will put it on her book-list
people will discover it is all made up
NPR will call it

An egregious lie
Numbered pages full
of excrement

I will smile

in a public place somewhere
my brain will fall out of my mouth

the pavement will be waiting