Before I won the big jackpot,
I'd pretty much lost my faith
in human nature. But after word
got out things changed.

Some of the jocks who used to
slam my head into the lockers
in school called me up to chat
and see how I was doing. And
the girls who'd shot me down
and laughed in my face over
the years texted me on facebook
and asked if we could get together.

Even my mom who ran off
with her affair partner and went
no contact for twenty years
got in touch and said she wanted
for us to reconnect.

Everyone's been so nice!
I guess people aren't so bad after all.

Disclaimer: It's a hard
and dangerous job and there
are plenty of good cops
and God bless them
but as for the others:

Cops Lie.
They lie and lie.
They even lie when there is video.
They lie even when their lies
are plain to see.
Clearly, the blood and broken nose
are from the victim smashing
his own face into the pavement.
The welts from repeatedly ramming
his head into that peace officer's baton.

If Attila the *** were a cop,
the police union would vigorously
defend his innocence.
He's a fellow officer, after all.
And if anyone on the force,
including the Police Chief,
disagrees the Union backers will
do their darndest to get him fired.

Now, imagine how much worse
it was before cell phones, before video.

Brutal.

I'm with Brother Beavis
on this one

Listening to the song
"Shiny Happy People"
makes me feel kind
of shiny and happy

Listening to it makes me want
to step away from the ledge,
to take the gun barrel out of my mouth,
to unhook the hose from the exhaust
pipe and open the car windows,
to put the cap back on the bottle of pills,
to pull my head out of the noose,
to put away the razor blade

Yeah, I know it was written tongue in cheek
and meant to be ironic, satiric or whatever

Don't care, it makes me feel good

Aren't we precocious?
Aren't we smart?
Reading at three,
learning poems by heart.

Aren't we precocious?
Aren't we clever?
Writing stories at six,
what an endeavor.

Aren't we precocious?
Aren't we sharp?
Staging plays at nine,
a bit of a lark.

Aren't we precocious?
Aren't we keen?
Making movies at twelve,
blocking out scenes.

Aren't we precocious?
Aren't we the bomb?
Multitasking at sixteen,
skipping the prom.

Aren't we precocious?
Aren't we a lock?
Making bundles at twenty,
buying houses and stock.

Aren't we precocious?
Aren't we the ****?
Rich as Midas at thirty
getting high, getting lit.

Aren't we precocious?
Aren't we sick?
Bankrupt at forty,
we're losing our schtick.

Aren't we precocious?
But where is our head?
Not even fifty
we're spent, then we're dead.

It's only fun if your really smart
and, even then, you better watch out

One of the flunkies
at the journal/review
will glance at your submission
just to say he did,
reflexively hit the REJECT key,

Direct your 3 or, worse, 5 dollar
bribe into the coffers
and think to himself SUCKER.

Just took my third dump of the day
and I'm tired of wiping
but I'm too lazy to take a shower
so I'll have to take my chances out
in the Big Wide World

Which means taking my heart medication,
which means obeying traffic laws,
which means being extra careful
crossing the street, which means
not antagonizing the cops or the homeless

But if I get struck by lightning
or hit by a meteorite or a stray bullet
or attacked by a grizzly bear
chances are I'll **** my pants
anyway which makes worrying
about it at all kind of pointless