The Comedian Retires

Ralph E. Greene

I must bolt my shop door.
I have no laughter more—
Do not ask me for any.
I have emptied my store,
I have scraped every cranny
With fingers that bled—
With fingers that bled.

I can give you no more—
Not a kernel or husk,
Not a cockle or grain.
I will bolt up my door,
I will sit in my house
And watch while the dusk
Creeps in from the rain
Like a shivering mouse—
Like a shivering mouse.