What’s Next And What’s Left

The same few tunes

over and over

endlessly.

Up and down rollercoaster,

emotions, events, jokes,

an astrodome full of clowns,

’til the fat lady sings,

’til the last convulsive octopus,

’til it’s time to close the bar,

walk the plank, 

open the last present,

burn the files,

sell the house,

jump in the lake, eat some cake,

do a head fake and disappear

behind the curtain.