i remember when the world was smaller and my goals much less lofty. there was a certain ease in believing my life mattered only as far as i could throw it. there was pleasure in finding my only joy in the sun on my skin. the afternoons were filled with barefoot walks through grass wearing nothing but shorts, followed by inhaling large slurpees with expressed brain-freeze intent. but back then i owned the world because the world needed an owner and everyone was too caught up in their own crap to notice i had already seized power.

poetry

put the front glass down
and don protective eye-ware
then cruise these streets
like a badass in a badass
car.
foldable front windshields
don’t win the favor of the ladies,
but leather flying helmets
and bottle-cap glasses earn
the envy of the idiots
(your target audience).

put the front glass down
and don protective eye-ware
in the rain like you own
this street. smile like
the cold doesn’t chill you to
your bones because you’re already
much too cold inside.

cruise these streets like
a badass in a badass car
because the shops are closed,
your friends are all at home
but your pipe is firmly
planted between your teeth
and you own this street

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