In September, for the first time, I have been invited to be part of the Albuquerque Funny Fiesta, our local comedy festival. Previously, I was once part of a comedy festival in Flagstaff, where I made one of the judges laugh so hard that he started hyperventilating and we didn’t know if he would ever stop. He did finally, but I definitely did not win that competition. I am in two shows on September 24 and one show on September 17, at Dry Heat Comedy Club, which is our only full-time comedy venture in Albuquerque.

Because I believe that laughter is the most effective vaccine against the slow ascent of sorrow that accompanies the floods and fires that accompany climate change, I will include a recent poem about our propensity towards the sad.

INHERITANCE OF DEPRESSION

All blood lacks the viscosity
to slow down sorrow,
except perhaps type O
which circulates jollity

towards a herd immunity,
where abandonment is a sallow poultice,
where a sad tincture can be dialysis-ed
like an infusion of snowflakes,

are a slang tonic against melancholy,
a frantic need to twist words
against usefulness and propulsion,
a year written as a handful of sludge.

When every word has been written and shot,
the poet awakens and begins anew.