A Riddle Poem by John Thorkild Ellison

I'd like to bury all my sorrow
In some wild dream of a better tomorrow
But life is just like a game of poker
Where every second card is a Jack or a Joker,

Or is it more like a game of chess
Played out in the barren wilderness
Between a yellow dwarf wearing scarlet shoes
And a smiling poet with a weeping muse?

I'm frightened of your Gestapo kiss
Though it turns all my suffering into bliss.
Did Stalin sing the gypsy blues
When Hitler wore his blue suede shoes?

Is Jesus just a Gentile loss
With a tender swastika on an iron cross?
Will Hamlet make the headline news
Or has Shakespeare himself got something to lose?