Don't do the easy thing (for Andrew)

It's easier to go on a second date
even if the mask she wears is not an umpire's
but a crust like dried milk at the bottom of
an old mug of coffee.

It's easier to use a finger,
to prod gently and carefully,
to explore within the bounds so that you leave things
just as they were before.

Don't let "Uncle" Bill make mayonnaise.

Use your fist again and again.
Leave your mark.
String a thin wire across Norfolk Ave. and knock the gang of hippies into
a moaning pile of long, knitted hair, spokes, and tie dye.

Crumble his cookies under the heel of your biking shoe. Then blog about it.

On laughter

Laughter for the sake of laughing
as a recognition of something true
because there's nothing else to do
at a sleeping friend
because something is unexpected
at the wicked
to express satisfaction
as ironic appreciation
at someone else's unenviable situation
because someone is self deprecating
as a recognition of a lie
because the bad guy got what he deserved
when something rhymes
to make "slaughter"
as a reaction to silence
because there's a gun pointing at you (at your own unenviable situation)
at irreverence
when someone makes a pun
because of a euphemism
because of a dysphemism
out of uncorked joy
in Santa's belly
when you change the words of a song
"Oh baby, Stu got what I need."
at nicknames
at fake news items
at unadulterated shamelessness
sardonically
sadistically
masachistically
until you cry
until your stomach folds
until you pee a little down your leg
so that you fall over in your chair
so that you roll on the floor
so that you shake your head
with applause
with hiccups
when tickled
out of nerves
out of tact
out of sympathy
out of respect
because everyone else is laughing
at funerals
at weddings
at christenings
at a bar mitzvah
with an accent
because your hair sits funny on your head today
because something is so disgusting you don't know what else to do
at a private joke with someone else who isn't there
when something reminds you of someone you love
when you remember something you'd nearly forgotten
because your apartment is so small
because your cake fell on the floor
because you almost fell but you were walking alone
in small giggles
in harrumphs
in champagne bubbles
in wrinkled raisins
in large boulders
with your head tilted back
out of your nose
through your teeth
from under your tongue

With your toes stretched out, your face in your elbow, your fingers in your hair, clenched in your seat, seething and roiling and flooding out of your mouth and all over the floor