True Story

A bar; a dive.
Ethanol springs, thrives.
The clown arrives;
The selfsame clown who,
To impress girls, speaks of the expanding universe,
then quickly misidentifies the speed increasIng,
At a distance,
As a 'paradox, '
When it the obvious function of the balloon expansion between galaxies.
'What is paradoxical, ' I offered, is what happens to tire very small.'
The clown: 'I just want to know what keeps a plane flying.' A hubbub of agreement.
So off I drove, lonely as usual, but with the satisfaction of being correct.
That is small, however,
As one drops into am empty bed.

poem by Stan Petrovich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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