The Oldest Joke

the oldest joke

goddess, with lips of pure gold
the affection of an abstracted jester
evil, baneful eyes somber as coal
loves no emotion, a disease which festers

so it is not blind, to imply as it could
ever see, the virus knows not its evil
only the paitient, who waits but never would
as he knows the mortification will reveal

bah! why bother with the form, the quadrain
the dreary sonnet to the starving artist
conspicuous lines known solitary by the smartest
everyday, everyone sucumbs, their sainty wains

a spread of infection, mans greatest joke grows old
this cliche of affection is an eternal pester