Thursday, June 7, 2012

Twelfth Humor

If laughter be the food of humor, giggle on;
Give me excess of it, that Googlish amount,
The ache from side-splitting laughter may weaken and grow serious.
That guffaw again, it rolls over dying when you fall;
O it came o'er my lips like the sweet sound
That bubbling, giggling delight of infants, 
Stealing our hearts, giving odor to our homes. Enough; no more.
'Tis not so sweet to laugh nonstopedness.
O spirit of humor, how quick and punny art thou,
That, notwithstanding thy badinage,
Receiveth a sea of tears. Sallies enters there,
Of what hilarity and amusement soe'er,
But falls into drollery and waggishness
Even in-a-gadda-da-vida. So full of itself,
That it alone is high 60s fantastical.

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