Jay Carson’s most recent poem to appear here was “Rings” (November 2019).

Ha-Ha
By Jay Carson

I’m a funny guy, people tell me.
Like it’s a good thing,
an easy, free thing.

Let’s talk about something else,
but not about all those times my mother
packed and threatened to leave.
She couldn’t win
those nightly Canadian Club battles
with my father—and, of course,
I could never get my manners right.

For God’s sake, let’s talk about something
besides that bastard sixth-grade bully
who said he wanted to rub dicks
and made sure some of us did.
The lucky ones only got regular punch-ups.

Anything else is fair conversation.
Sorry, except that first wife who
wanted to keep our marriage “just a business relation”
so she could be faithful to my son’s soccer coach.

What’s it matter when,
with a few words and an insane view,
you can turn a joker
to everybody’s royal flush;
change the whole conversation?

A little like Christ, turning
over the temple tables
on everybody’s hard-won game.

A friend said that new guy we just met
thought I was really funny.
How could you not?