Dead Poet Sobriety

You know you’ve just been

thrown into

dead poet sobriety

when that message finally got delivered to you in the past

which you sent to you from the future

day in the middle of next week

which urgently told you the

message was chiseled

right next to that heart you and

your first girlfriend carved

on that old oak tree

at the High School.

‘past uncertainty can

be altered’

Haven’t you gotten that feelin’ you’ve

been here before?

What the hell have you been doing!

What do you have to show?

What have you done with your life?


then repeat.

And, guess what?

Repeat, again!

You are a repeater!

Oh, what the hell, it’s OK.

I mean, you do what you do.

We can waste time.

If it’s not our time to waste,

whose is it?

It’s our prerogative,

but you get none of it back.

They only dole out what you get

and it’s a raw deal.

But, you don’t get how fast time slips away

until you’re an old geezer.


No one told us why we’re here.

We were born.

We live.

We make a Junior or two

(one or two little men in the making like us: to feed our ego’s)

Then, we die.

I guess there’s no rule book or game plan

except the one we make for ourselves.

So, get busy writing your epitaph.

Time is of the essence, and time

becomes the essence.

So, I decided

it was


to go to the store and get me

 a payday,

(because I wanted to get paid for writing poetry)

so I bought two smaller payday’s instead of one big one that I saw

when the cashier already rung both of them up

and it was too late to buy that big one I really wanted

to gorge myself on as I looked down on it

in the other rack on the other side

that I didn’t see until then.

I’ve really been gettin’ that cravin’ for that candy bar…

(It’s my favorite chewy nugget loaded with peanuts!)


One of the two small bars was an extra one for my imaginary unemployed

friend who was completely penniless

so he could have his own payday

he so sorely needed

(which was my good deed for the week)

Thanks for listening

while you didn’t know you were travelling in my written word time

machine with me…

(yes, time machines can be almost anything.)

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