"The absurdist."

You cannot be truly absurd, if
you are an absurdist. The intellectual
distance and fondling fondness, the
delight in it distances, as
distance does. And you say
you delight in it, but isn't
your delight really over? It
soon will be, you see you were never
absurd enough yourself. Oh you were,
like all of us, but you saw the point

and congratulating yourself,
you've lost it. In finding
the plot, the warp and weft,
the pitch and yaw, the

yawn. Is all you've got, so
you titillate yourself
with such absurdities
as you find, or find
time to make, remember
good times. A subpar
brand, you've burnt into
your arm. You delight
over it. You are separate
from and superior to, and so

tethered to it by unbreakable knot,
you are safe to and from harm
as you huff, and you puff, and you blow

on the chimes.