Remember the way things used to be.
Remember first impressions and don’t allow them to lock you into a mindset that grinds everything and everyone into the pieces and parts of a larger and more ineffective machine.
I’m not here to tell you anything you don’t already know.
I’m not a life coach or some masturbatory guru who gets off on watching his or her followers consume each other on a molecular level.
We had plenty of that when we were all living in a yellow submarine and I’d like to think we’ve moved past that kind of prehistoric belief system.
I don’t need nor want for you to think of me as a poet but instead as a parser of words because statistics don’t mean a damn thing if you don’t have enough will power to get up and go when an evil doer enters the room and tries to coop your soul.
Remember what it felt like to hold a pen or pencil in your hand and how liking something was a personal triumph and not just another public expression of your selfie love for a society that went bust long before the gold rush was the new kid in town.
Yes I want you to get off my lawn and while you’re at it get off my planet until you admit what the white man did to the Native Americans is an unforgivable act. Period, end of story, game over you have no more pinballs left and I’m tired of your revolving door politics.
Some people make history while others rely upon histrionic excuses to get them through the next five hundred years or more with hardly a scratch to their Taj Mahal souls.
Let’s try again to go the distance and while we are at it I promise not to remind you of all the times I did not kill you for being such an incredible asshole.