The cartoons flicker
on the CRT screen,
Macabre in their mixture
of slapstick and obscene.
I stifle a chuckle
and dunk my spoon in my beans,
Pondering exactly
what Bugs Bunny's smirk means.
Certain he's with me,
I recline, now serene,
Thoughts now discolored
with a brightly hued sheen,
Popping and bopping
to a quartet of strings,
My living room fit
for both jesters and kings.
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