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116

“How old is your son?” “He is 9 o’clock,”
my student says and the class laughs as well
it should. My student laughs and cannot stop
nor can anyone. We laugh and the spell
goes on unbroken. Everyone shakes
in on the joke, happy to be sharing
understanding the premise and mistake.
Laughter engenders laughter as kissing
kisses: just watch the teenagers do it
on the park bench. Laughter is forever.
That’s why Buddha laughs. It was expensive
my old sweater. Cachito clings closer
sticking his nails in. Let the cat claw it.
What the heck. Life goes on and Death doesn’t.


Drawing by Akram

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