if I ever make it big,
then I want to lose it all in some back alley shady joint
where everyone hopes I fail
and it comes true,
leaving penniless and probably not all that much wiser,
though maybe I can go into lecturing the youth of tomorrow
about subjects that I have a faint understanding of
and should probably never be listened to,
because I barely know how to learn,
but I know how to lose
fasten your seatbelt for the automaton empire to strike rebel forces
until someone claims to be anothet dude’s father,
but I won’t believe it until I see a paternity test,
and even then I’ll still claim I didn’t know the mother,
she probably got around and abound, if you know what I mean,
though what’s an infinite universe worth when it comes down to a small quadrant that no one can reach,
but everyone can hustle and bustle to the moon and back, though how bout that Mars
carry the one
divide by a prime number randomly selected by
a disabled veteran high on opioids,
exponentially increase the derivative functions
of a thousand mice carrying off the princess into the sunset,
cross the eyes, dot dot dot, dimmer switch to create a pleasant atmosphere,
sell the space, become rich, go to California
and wear ankle weights to fit in,
then make something up, and you’ll have the answer
Fred Aiken Writing 