all day long the internet sells wisdom like
fruit in bins fronting the bodegas,
the one Spanish word every New Yorker speaks,
some ripe, some not and
some on the cusp of going home as mulch to the wet earth,
sooner than later

you can't squeeze the wisdoms proffered like a piece of fruit,
from the exterior, there rarely be a dashboard indicator saying
check engine light or this one is one worth picking

so gobsmack like Dylan croaking in an obvious in a way something obvious yet you thinking hey! that's interesting, read
earn good friends
something I ain't done so well and yet here I am,
passing it on like I know what the fruit-picking trick is,  
but on your fourth cup of joe and it's barely noon,
in your seventh decade you take the right to croak,
even if you aint got no expertise, that the emphisis
is on the earn part

you dont buy 'em in the store, no winning the lottery,
gotta use your eyes and no, lovers don't count neither,
guess you gotta stick out that hand, have somebody's back,
unasked,
and being gracious when saying thanks,
but then again never had more than one or two,
but for fhem
I'd lay down my life for them to survive so not exactly clueless

earn good friends, that sounds bout right...that, the right way...