The Oldest Joke in the World

Upon the stair I sat and thought
a million miles away,
the sun and stars might fall down
tonight, slip right into town
and say, right away, right away
put the things together,
stand in a great long line
you won't be needing a telescope
no more, you won't be counting time.
Upon the stair I sat and thought
a million miles away,
Saturn and Jupiter might collide
tomorrow and gravity subside,
to mess up all the tides and clocks,
work up all the wars and say,
too late for this boat and barn,
we no longer come to warn,
not in peace nor in particular
to spin a legendary yarn.
Upon a stair I sat and thought
a million miles away,
hell isn't good enough for most
of them and heaven too far away
for telescopes and misanthropes.
Upon a stair I sat and thought
a million miles away, which light
is it again that gets to earth
too late, which one is so far away?
Upon a stair I sat and thought
of the beginning and the end,
the chicken and the egg,
I thought this thought and it
was fine, but where on earth
is the punch line, the last laugh?
It doesn't really matter when
the folks begin to scatter,
a yolk or drumstick,
in the holy primordial batter,
raindrop and sperm drop,
snakes and apples, a wink
from Ahmedinijad in a dream.
It ain't over until
the fat lady sings or
as the case may be,
when the cows come home
after leaping over
the luminous, ruminous Moon
upon which epiphany is dormant,
where shadows prostrate
this way and that, anyway.
Upon a stair I sat and thought
of the oldest old joke I know,
I started to laugh like a bear
in the woods, a tree falling
or one hand clapping.