swerve

There is no happy hour
But there have been happy minutes
Just not in a row
That reminds me of a fable
This is the story of a mouse that fell into a bucket of cream.
He drowned.
Later on, someone drank that cream
Without ever knowing that a mouse had drowned in it
Pretty gross, eh?
The end
Which is to say
And the moral of the story is
Let bygones be polygons
Let bygones be binomials
And start your own 80s synth band
Called Octopus Bats
Or maybe Crystal Laser Tentacle
You never know until try
And keep on trying
Because the word ‘expert’ comes from the Latin
Experiri
Meaning ‘to try’
As in experiment
It’s how to get knowledge
Meaning it’s a gift to know the best days of your life are happening
WHILE they’re happening
And not only in retrospect
So you can open up those solar panels and soak it up
In the moment
Banking it for later
But also basking in it now
But what do I know?
I’m just an articulate stupid person
An auctioneer’s lullaby
But I suspect
That it’s very hard to calm down
Or get better
By accident




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