Fred Aiken Writing

every smart person I’ve ever known,

let me know in so many words,

’You have no idea what you’re doing,

please give up,

clean up,

and go home’,

though for some odd reason I keep sticking around,

hoping this time might be different,

I’ll finally realize my mistake and correct, correct, correct

before it’s too late,

and all is lost,

none is forgiven,

take off my clothes,

skinny dip with the fishes,

I drowned all my sorrows in the Chattahoochee River,

washed away, wished away,

thinking I’m special in a way,

though I guess I probably shouldn’t be that naive,

but that just wouldn’t be me

you left me for my best friend,

but the joke was on you,

cause my best friend was imaginary and followed be everywhere,

so it looked as if you were following my shadow,

yet still so distant,

calling out for me to slow down, wait, enjoy what was left of our relationship,

I guess if you could call it that,

I guess it gave me comfort,

knowing that someone cared for you,

even if they didn’t exist,

and I’m just a figment of our first kiss

new slime combines with old slime

in a work of pure majestic gold fraught with ever changing particles

brought online for purposes unknown

just guessed at

just a speculation

just something to ponder on

create misinformation

played on the fiddle

or some stupid riddle to tell

everyone in the drunk tank

as they bask in the genius of what you are

what are you