The Setup Without a Punchline
The premise is three months in the building—
the elaborate architecture, the gilding
of the setup with the specific detail,
the bit that has the full inhale
of the buildup: the premise complete,
the trajectory of the beat
pointing at the landing—and no
landing. The punchline: I don’t know.
[Chorus]
The setup without a punchline—
the elaborate front line
of the bit, the fully loaded
premise, the exploded
architecture of the setup
pointing at the speed-up
toward the punchline’s location.
The punchline: on vacation.
Maybe the premise is the joke—
the baroque
construction of the setup as
the bit itself, the jazz
of the elaborate almost.
The punchline may be the ghost
that the setup is haunted by.
The setup without a punchline: my.
I’m still working on the landing—
the setup is the standing
army waiting for the order.
The punchline is the border
I haven’t crossed yet, the after
I’m building toward. The laughter
waits at the end of the premise.
The setup: my nemesis.