Aunt History is sad because
The aleatoric bubble of joy
Has been stolen—
It was created by accident
This happiness thing
That lives inside
All creatures
But by God
Its been snatched
You know how it is—
You’re walking a street
And feel a sudden burst of joy
Well, some bastard
Has swiped it
And so, there are blank pages
In the book of life
She rips them out
Puts them on her face
Planet of the Blind 