I just got hired as a Court Jester.
At the interview, they wanted me
to jingle the bells on the hat they provided.
Which was stupid, because I have my own,
I made my own, I bought the fabric,
and sewed on the bells, and everything.
I tried to explain to them that I had
my own personal court jester hat,
but they wanted to see me in theirs.
They wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I haven’t slept well in a long time.
The moon is too bright. Sunday nights,
it whispers to me, tells me its secrets,
Monday nights it cries, Tuesdays it just
sits there, staring, staring at me, unceasing,
taunting, silver-white and silent.
I overslept the morning of my first
Court Jester shift. It was a Wednesday,
and the moon was screaming at me
all night. I shut the window, pressed
my pillow against my ears, screamed
right back at it, but it would not stop
until I jingled the bells of my very own
handmade personal court jester hat.
.
.
.