–for Stephen King
Carrie doesn’t die in the house-fire her mind sets
after flying steak-knives crucify her mom. Healing
the stab-wound in her back, she hot-foots to the one
comedy club in Chamberlain, Maine. Finally,
she can laugh–at Miss Collins, the gym coach, crushed
by a basketball backboard; Principal Dimwitty, fused,
sizzling, to his mike-stand; even herself–the Dweeb
Who Would Be Queen–drenched in pig’s blood, prom-
dress hugging her “dirty pillows” like a wet tee-shirt.
What do you get when you cross a telekinetic with a spastic?
she’s soon asking on TV. A mover and a shaker.
Ha! Funnier acts go up in flames. Hecklers pull off
their own heads. Non-laughers’ arms shoot from their bodies
like balloons when you let go of the pinched end.
A telepath walks into a Trappist bar. “Jeez,” he says,
“Don’t you guys ever shut up?”The room explodes.
Carrie’s hired to host Tonight. Sponsors pay what they’re told.
Guests scrap talking points, and confess their crimes.
A Jew, a Muslim, and a Born-Again are on a plane.
There’s a Big Bang. The Jew and Muslim die, and are reborn
as pigs. The Born-Again returns as a Darwinian.
Laughter rocks the country like one big mutual orgasm.
Enemies embrace. “I love you,” everyone chimes.
Carrie for Fuhrer pops into every head at the same time.
Charles Harper Webb is the author of Shadow Ball: New & Selected Poems, from the University of Pittsburgh Press and the forthcoming What Things Are Made Of. A recipient of grants from the Whiting and Guggenheim foundations, Webb directs Creative Writing at California State University, Long Beach.
*Photo courtesy of Elron6900.