Para Ricardo

“Welcome to the club, life is hard.”
He says,
as he ignores all my scars, laid before him,
only seconds before his marred,
mocking,
aroduous hard truths,
bled all over my
jarred mooth (sorry… I mean mouth).
Do you think I got here,
by wishing on a farther star?
Fucking, NO!
I clawed my way
past all kinds
of blind men of a bitter age.
All telling me to act my own stage,
and treat their every word as sage advice.
Instead, I’ll wage war on those too whored out
to their own self worth.
Your wisdom isn’t wisdom from anywhere but your own front porch.
Your introspection, to any other generational selection,
is nothing but coarse, lacking in remorse, and infantile enough to report here by stork.
So, before you mock another project you don’t get, take a step out on the sidewalk,
and simply listen to people talk.
They might just offer you
a fraction of what you’ve clearly lost.