I heart not a joke, so there is no use in trying.
Please, no levity—jokes are not meant to be, oh no!
I’m wondering why we make attempts at laughing.
Because it’s unseemly to seek jollity.

I avert my eyes when something wry’s on the horiz’.
I cannot get my head around why they’re said; they fill me with dread.
It’s so easy to die, actors and comics are ribbing.
But, what’s hard? you query. The answer: comedy.

It was no surprise when I learned that it is not wise
to have written or said jokes; clear your head, put whimsy to bed.
There in bed jokes should lie; that way there’ll be no rib tickling.
Yet there is still a gleam of a joke within me.
Ho, ho.