pathos

chuckle-head go ahead and raise that flag

raise a toast as well

raise a toast to the opening day of aspiring human season

wherein we all try our best

to try our best

as long as our best does not need to be our best

if you hold that door for that roto-rooter man

his dodgy little fingers and his dodgy little thumbs

might not smear God-knows-what

upon the handle

but then, that would be trying our best

and we might not need to do our best in trying our best

would you shout a little louder, dear chuckle-head?

shout a few decibels louder, for I can nearly hear that air-compressor

over your dulcet tones

shout, you chuckle-head, for that would not require you to try your best

just to try

try something, anyway

as the zephyr winds roar through my colon I am reminded of that one man

that one man who made the foolhardy mistake of trying his best

and making sure that his best was his best

he gained the laughs

of the noodle-suckers

and the chip-dippers

and the cheese-melters

and the chicken-plucking church-goers

they all laughed

and hung him out to dry

because his best

had been his best

so anyhow, chuckle-head, go ahead

and raise that flag

and raise a toast to the opening day

of aspiring human season