Six Word Story

A poem dedicated to me, because I feel responsible

The nerd god of
folk poetry
said it best,

I’m a driver
I’m a winner
Things are
gonna change
I can feel it

Well, I am
not that man

I personify the
string of antonyms
that are contrary
to the bolded,
italicized prose

I’m not a driver,
I am a passenger

I’m not a winner,
I’m a failure

Things won’t change
and I can feel it too

In this case, empiricism
equates to common sense

And the cast of Glee
backs me up as I mouth
the Spanish part
of the chorus

Soy un perdedor!

And the chorus
continues onward,
asserting the truth
that I am a failure
and that I should
become the end result
of societal Darwinism

Except I don’t have
a guitar string
strong enough
or a
Douglas fir beam
high enough
off the floor
in which to
commit the deed.

And the committed,
Biblical zealots
will tell you that
societal Darwinism
is the ultimate result
of a denial of the Lord’s
sovereignty over humankind

And my answer
is that the belief
in hell is its own
form of pessimism,
its own form of nihilism

Religious nihilism
is equitable to
societal Darwinism

The prime directive
is to survive
and multiply
and when one of
those two basic tenets
are compromised,
it makes life
not worth living

Of course,
not everybody
subscribes to
this simple,
biologically-based
philosophy

Some people
wisely understand
that there is
a purpose
to this life
and that the
divine silence
problem
is not a
problem at all,
but a simple fact
build into this thing
called existence

Christian theism
is the only
point of view
that supplies the
necessary
transcendental
reasons for how
existence came about,
and there is no
escaping this truth

In other words,
I was dealt this
s****y hand and
I have to play it
even though
I won’t win
any tricks in
this game of
reproductive
five hundred

To quote a
s****y poet
who knows more
useless information
than the guy who
wins all the rounds
of interactive trivia
at Buffalo Wild Wings,

November Oscar,
November Zero,
nothing,
none,
nil
and
nada!
These
producers
are unable,
and so they are
November Zeroes

And now we have
come full circle
like we drove
the circuit from
Fargo to Grand Forks
to Minot to Bismarck
and back to Fargo

The nerd god of
folk poetry
said it best,

Soy un perdedor!
I am loser, baby!
Why don’t you kill me?

So much for playing
the hand I was dealt

The prime directive
is no longer violated

This is the
silver lining
around the
mushroom cloud
of my despair

All because the happy-faced,
Santa Claus-looking drunk
wrote a six word story,

For Sale, Baby Shoes, Never Worn

Reviews

[Jeremy Baker]

It's a well known story, and you have done it justice in this remarkable poem. Well done!

[joshua deathdealer]

Wow you really poured yourself into this one. The ending was extremely sad. I love this. Well done.

[M.D]

Walt Disney "It's kind of fun to do the impossible". Become a driver, become a winner. Make croupier to give you new cards {better to be aces}...this works unless u believe in empiricism.

[Rene Velez]

talking about putting bullet holes in the fabric of society, damn...poignant.

[...]

Great read. Excellent penning. I really like the wisdom throughout; very thought provoking stuff. I like the 'loser' quote too; I think that line plays in most people's heads at some point; I know it does in mine.