A ubiquitous imagination is just like all the others
with no variation from your sister’s or your brother’s.
It does not twist or undulate. It runs a narrow course.
It has a sense of humor never varying from its source.
As Mother dreamed and Father dreamed, so does it dream as well.
It does not flaunt, cavort, carouse. It’s locked within a cell.
It doesn’t thrive on irony. It does not tease or bait us.
In lieu of furnishing fresh air, we flounder in its flatus.
God save us all from normalcy and those who are too dumb
to develop their own funny bone but who remain humdrum
by reciting age-old jokes to us and memorizing jokes
that haven’t drawn much laughter since they learned them from their folks.