Dead Man Laughin’

Comedians die,

Nightly —

Sometimes twice.

Their dreams squeezed,

Tightly —

In a vice.

Who knows,

Even slightly —

Stings they feel.

Though we ask

(impolitely)

“Is it really real?”

Comedy kills,

Nightly —

With pokes & pecks.

Yet its victims beg,

Brightly —

“Can I be next?”