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The Entertainer

by Nicholas John Street
Today, no play may entertain
No jest may cause laughter

No music still my restless heart
No words strike fire in my mind

Is every act I might undertake
Merely a diversion?

A minute, an hour of distraction
Whilst emptiness waits for me patiently

Is every desire but a running from home?
A ceaseless chain of trivia

May a soul's desolation be drowned
In so shallow a pool?

And when shaking myself dry
Would the sober silence comfort?

No matter
Comfort no longer comforts

There can be no more running away

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