magnificent error

it’s the mistakes,

the fuckups, the things that

“go wrong,” which make

up the spice of life, which

illustrate the memories that

divide the passive livers from the

doers who find themselves

fond of the life they’ve lived in

retrospect---

just think of the rights of passage

which everyone seems to say they’ve had,

the first kiss, first f**k, the prom, the

driver’s license, first high, first fight,

first arrest, first paycheck, first debt,

first this, first that &

what makes it all worth it is

the fact than none two is the same,

because nothing can be planned

exactly the way that you want it to be,

nofuckingmatter how much you try.

 

so why do we seem surprised

when someone starts to die? why do we

get mad when the girl/boyfriend cheats,

or when we reach into the pocket &

there just ain’t enough moola for the

meal that we feel we need

to get on through,

to get on through &

yet still,

we’re breathing.

 

to adapt is to survive &

to survive is to win---

there’s no achievement that will make

you king/queen when the worms start to

burrow their way into your

rotting flesh, or

when the last living grandchild

knocks over the urn holding your

dust,

spreading it all over the living room

carpet---

the hilarity of the matter,

the beauty of the rub,

is that every accident, every unscheduled

deviation, every erratum, every

miscalculated,

misapprehended, misjudged, misunderstood,

mishandled & mismanaged

iota of life,

is but a reflection of the whole

random & meaningless

generation of you & i,

right out into existence,

set to be erased just as quick---

so enjoy the absurdity of it all.