Listening to Pavement's 'Range Life' remastered,
in the office while rocking my lucky sweater,
which has never been washed in 22 years.
Fuck.
I will skateboard home in the cold
and jump the turnstile just to turn art into life,
while I have moved onto podcasts which subsequently
mention the very song I was listening to earlier.
Met a woman on the rumbler who said I looked like her son,
but that he had MS and died young, about a year ago, at 42.
I am 36 now and still figuring it all out.
Fuck.
I walk into my new place and settle down,
trying to enjoy the now, like my therapist yells,
but nature kicked me in the dick because
I have to figure her and finish relocating to Long Island.