Wednesday, May 20, 2009

poem of the day 05.20.09


of all of humanity that i have
to suffer the most
it is the optimist that i think
takes the proverbial cake for me
i used to think the optimist had a mental deficiency
but now i think that most are delusional
and how can they not be
walking around saying things like
it’ll turn around
we have to hope for the best
or it’s not as bad as you think
no, sometimes it is that bad
and i don’t know what kind of spiked kool-aid
the optimist is drinking
or where the world has become so full
of possibility in the face of certain death
but i simply don’t like it or them
and i think, for once, that someone needs to get
off the sauce
when i meet someone
and on the rare occasion find them tolerable
it often saddens me if they go off on one of these
positive diatribes like
there’s still a chance
when i hear that i often sigh and have to write
this person off to the dull masses
my mother gets her optimism from religion
every week she tells me she prays to jesus and mary
for me
and every week i tell her that’s as good as praying
to santa claus or oprah winfrey
she tells me a positive attitude is the key
i take a sip on my beer and tell her i’ll call her next week
now, i realize this disdain goes both ways
often it is the optimist who tells me that
i am a pessimist
even though i believe i am a realist
to me this is the same as those who call me a luddite
simply because i do not have a cell phone pressed
to my ear at all times
or the soundtrack of my life coming out through
those trendy ear buds
and i accept this as another folly of mankind
but oh the optimist
forgiveness is the economy of the heart
laughter is the best medicine
all work and no play makes jack a dull boy
you simple little fool
i think of all of you i hope my mother is the
one who is correct
because with religion comes the fire and brimstone
if you don’t believe me read the book of revelations
and if i’m lucky maybe i’ll live to see
armageddon come
millions of positive thinking motherfuckers
burning on the grass of god’s good earth
a cell phone and an ipod melded into their ears
as the sky is scorched a telling black
and in my last breath
as the flames consume me and you
and from dust we came unto dust we shall return
i’ll turn to you my brothers and sisters
and i’ll smile and i’ll say something like
see, it wasn’t as bad as all of that
and in my dying breath perhaps i’ll feel
exactly how an optimist feels each morning
when the sun rises over the sea
and the world keeps spinning
in a universe so vast and endless
it’ll freeze your ass off
in under three seconds flat.

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