well, they can’t all be the best day of your life
she told me. why not? today is the only
day. zen teaches. only now. so, what if
now is a bag of suck? what to do with that?
not to beat the drums of pessimism,
baby, but it’s cloudy with a chance of rain
and we’re looking bleached as flour from staying
inside all winter — working nights ain’t helpin,
comes a time you have to be responsible
and take your mood in your own teeth, bite down hard
and make that bitch bleed optimism as though
it were ambrosia, which it kinda is,
and smile against the shitstorms life tosses
against your windows, knowing shit grows roses.