Devilishly Dreadful: The Croaker

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Jimmy Komick joked on TV—
Light—people thought him a joker,
Finding him so very funny—
As a comic, a real smoker—
Until the act was a poker
And the crowd the butt of the joke.
They voted to shock his croaker.
It may have cost, but free he spoke.

Komick came back on you see,
His joking this time a stroker
“Free speech”, he thought, “has to be free”
He called his network a choker
To keep ad sales—the real joker.
“Voters”, he hoped, “won’t hurt this bloke.”
Wrong! Instead, they used a poker.
It may have cost, but free he spoke.

Jimmy, Jimmy—back on TV
To recover as a joker.
There, doubling down, he made no plea—
But there became a fire stoker.
The voters hated this croaker—
He called the emperor a joke—
Cut off his wordy poker.
It may have cost, but free he spoke.

Mr. Pres., Jim’s got no poker—
Tongue’s been lopped off—he cannot joke—
Komick now sounds like a croaker.
It may have cost, but free he spoke.

© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.

Tittu

Poet’s Note:
Happy Halloween! 🎃 This is the eighth and final part of the first season in my series, Devilishly Dreadful.

An original dreadful of mine, this poem takes the strict ballade form and twists satire into horror. Comedy curdles, free speech meets its price, and the voice of a joker becomes the dreadful croak that closes Season 1. Stay tuned for the next dreadful season.