Vintage jokes, like songs from the olden mould, <br />Wax e’er the worthier like vintage wine, <br />And yet a joke at best— nearing punch line— <br />Oft be like a see-through dress made of gold, <br />While comedy, an art best enjoyed live, <br />Where no alibi weighs not being there, <br />Be like the scene of sex ever alive, <br />As whatso unfolds there is always fair. <br /> <br />But I would much rather for humour die <br />That dies today a slow tortuous death, <br />Watching slapstick raucous comedy vie <br />For a video space tired, short of breath. <br /> Humour is not for half-wit raw rookies: <br /> Art it is making most of mere cookies.<br /><br />Aniruddha Pathak<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/humour-s-not-for-half-wits/
