the eternal question
that keeps saps awake
how to write a sad poem
without sounding like
an idiot fucking loser

whatever-- the eternal favorite word
whatever happens, happens
like you, or most often-- don't
no matter, simply energy
and I'm not trying to outsmart you

wit is the last refuge of the boring
today, simply a longing to be
only another mime of an absurd corpse
without which, you are shit
a punchline in which the joke is you

when I lift this bottle to my lips
I decry everything you ever are
tomorrow my head will hurt
but yours will eternally yearn
for something that ain't a fuck