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Edit Poem
Editing Instructions
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The Laugher
His laugh born from a chuckle
as the bus slid to a hissing stop.
People entered, people left,
the air vacated then re-filled without a smile.
Laughing harder,
a maniacal edge fueled on the fear,
the madness that
eyes should widen around him;
mothers holding their children closer;
“He could do anything!” plain on their faces.
Two hissing stop and goes of laughter was
the limit of The Grim.
A tight white jacket and short drive later,
the laughing man couldn’t stop
as open eyes viewed unvarnished,
the constructed, grim
reality where continuous laughter is not permitted.
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