When the Laugh Track Starts

sour hour starts here on cue
drenched in april diminished
returns an east coast survival match
to one career too many of statistics
sometimes it’s our job to hold
hands of the dying on trains
those smartest men who left stationless
we fit in to public spaces
at risk or proving ourselves free
in a future redundant with Hamlets
not enough ghosts to keep us
anodyne with civil unions untold
pacts with devils in unflattering light
when radio is on, then the fun starts