How ‘bout that? Barely 26 years old!

Everything I say is gold:

people twice my age, tenure-tracked, PhDs,

are simpering before me on their knees.

All I said was:

Your words don’t speak to us all anymore.

Ain’t this what critical thinking is for?

We’re going to have to weed our minds.

Why don’t we start with yours?

Does your privilege stack the deck?

Hang this letter from your neck,

and as for you who have none, head down, just keep walking,

I got this.

I’m sorry, what did you say? I was talking.

I was telling them:

That’s not a story we tell anymore.

Our words are rotten right down to the core.

We’re going to have to weed our minds,

why don’t we start with yours?

It’s like shooting fish

in a barrel of guilt.

What a trip!

I’m on top,

sitting on top

of the world

Again!

Your words don’t matter as much as your clan.

Times change, you foolish old man.

Hey, where’s everybody gone?

Love’s the only trip I’m on!

You know that I’m just a small-town dope in recovery.

Do I not bleed if you prick me?

Somebody, please!

Somebody, please:

write me a script,

adjust my meds.