Poems

Lon Chaney

You knew enough to
Keep it up:

That moonlit agony
From the night of the soul
Masking your face—

You gave out
Your goddamned life for show;

Put a crack in the heart,
Put a fire in the spirit,
Of those who watched,
Of those watching—made time and tense no matter.

Laughter and tears and
The eternity of print,
A tightrope beyond darkness but a breath away.

An artist,
Is NOTHING,
But what He/She
Gives;
And though it’s good
For a few laughs,
It hurts like hell
To be nothing,
Doesn’t it?

Way under the moon
Of gravity-bitten and conscious-clawed pain,
Is naked wisdom masked by shining laughter,

Just like you.

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