Hey miss worthless, or so you say, you know how to start a bad story over? You burn it, like tinder in cardboard box. It’s only paper, who said the ending is locked down? It’s only an iteration of many.
Hey, mister spaceman, seeking
eureka in your long shot stars,
never let the sun go out
in your solar
system’s heart, your
relativity is still out there.
Hey, doctor of doomsdays,
counting calendar dates
down to learning to love the bomb,
another month or two might
seem long but
you also might fall in
love with something slightly less
Hey, man versus self, put your pride back
on the shelf and
trying looking around for what
else you’re proud of.
Hey, miss worthless, or so they call you, a shame. You know how to pick yourself up again? Stop looking to the ground.
You know how to believe the opposite?
Say it aloud.
Hey, people of the Earth, can we stop being jerks a second and just find out what works? Can we revel in the mirth and disregard the dirt we have on each other a sec?
I reckon you bet there’s no good to be found.
Hey, miss worthless,
purpose and re-work
its random stanzas, until each is
a dance of value, a