January's Little Joke

All I can hear is the clucking of tongues

I can see them

Plucking at crumbs of conversations

A drunk uncle's breath

And they're touching my hand

As now turns into then

Dream turns into dreamt

Spend turns into spent

One turns into one too many

Say when

And in the blue corner

Crouches a mediocre joker

The laughs are on me

And the arch of my back cracks under the weight

Of the wisecracks

Stop the clock I want to get off

Though I knew what argue meant

And I knew what punish meant

And I knew what embarrass meant

I never found out what achieve meant

All heaven broke loose

But I knew they had something to hide

They were turning the page

But I glimpsed the very last line

Now we raise a toast to celebrate

As December's embers fade

But every fire is just a hoax

For January's little joke