You’re fucked no matter what!

Sure this cancer didn’t kill me
but a heart attack could be around the corner,
waiting to clobber me with a crowbar
and rob me of my Beats by Dre headphones.

My life is held together 
by super glue,
and not the good kind,
but the dollar store variety
that is anything but super.

So I will be sacred but not scared,
order pancakes for the table,
but pronounce it as panSNAKES
just to see if the server discerns it.

Shoot guns with your best friend
because this is the end of August in America,
during the foul year of our lord 2025,
and firing an AK47 for the first time
is like doing a big bump of cocaine
in the bathroom of a winebar I used to work at

Listen to music every day 
like a lunatic and fall in love
like someone with nothing to lose,
and embellish your stories
with experience rather than whim.

Take away the pressure to be top shelf
and embrace being on the back burner
but don’t settle for second fiddle.