At times, I give-off an air of sophistication
when all of my syllables are dancing right, but more often than not
I say what I really think, and it scares people.
The facts of life are not romantic.
Most of it has to do with friction, wear and tear
and we all get ripped, tossed-out, like old newspaper
with coffee grounds and broken egg shells
weighing us down.
I don’t have time to make an impression
I’m out the door,
with a shower and no eggs.
I don’t have time to iron my shirt.
My truck is full of trash.
I’m constantly on the go.
Yesterday, at 10 PM, I realized
I was socializing with pizza sauce on my sweatshirt.
It was a risk, not to wear my work clothes
“You’re a really boring guy,” my coworkers say.
“Well—you made me this way.”
There is no time to be interesting
Life, is a runaway train
and it doesn’t make routine stops—
it just keeps going.
It helps to find something to do
amid the chaos