1. br Should I breathe in laughter br Or just disintegrate? br Rooms with windows br Seem to have no windows; br The empty plants placed br Strategically, resemble br Everything upon which br The misfires began; br The role of the stars br And gonzo flight, br And the ground we ate on br Shabbily and happily before br The insanity grew like crime br In an oblivious hamlet. br Did a clown live here? One cannot say, br Much less me, too confused to know. br br br 2. br Seaside inlets, nearly conscious rain. br Flaws wither and then rise again, like Shelley's br br Monster running through this castle. br Props are on the stage; an oak chair, this hopeful br br Rope, the man-child who sheds his own rare tears, br When Tiburon darkness kills our monologues, br br Makes their deaths uproarious farces, falling br Flat and devoid of the typical outlook. br br Let that rapid-fire smile save at least you, br Though it won't save me, as I thought it would.