Sorry, not dead

I always hated being called poet
but I guess shoe fits.
it’s certainly a
suitable nominal title
even though I never majored in English.

and sure I never read Austin
it’s okay; neither did they.
they only wrote a bunch of essays
and haven’t since the day they graduated

I guess now we’re on the same page

I’m admittedly a slow reader
fast learner
persistent do-er

with

no clue how the sociohistorical context reflects any way I try to create.
you really think that was on the mind of any single one of the greats?

I mean maybe.

I don’t know.

I haven’t studied.

It’s okay.
You can shut me up easily.
I fall swiftly to someone seeming more pretentious than me.

(Yes
I know it’s “I”
go away)

People hate insects,
but prefer to watch the birds.
But, both fly. Who cares….

Dickinson

Some poets think they need

to travel the world for that

inspirational spark. Dickinson

stayed in her home. Wrote

in the same meter for years.

Maybe I should stop counting

and lining up all my syllables.

Else, I’ll end up a recluse like

Dickinson. A talented recluse,

but a recluse, nonetheless…

Some smile to show great joy;
some smile to prevent other’s sadness.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell which.
Some smiles don’t even know for themselves.

Student Athlete

Staring at the map of last Saturday
trying to take it all in at once

I can remember almost every detail
so clearly
so odd
for someone
with my memory capacity

All the pictures by signs
all the good food
and good times with you

It helps me
with remembering
why I’m becoming
a student athlete meme

to get back to you

never stop hustling

John 3:16

Just as crunchy, but much less flavor

Have you ever taken a bag of potato chips on a plane?

My current theory is that the lack of outside pressure causes the inside gas to expand.

I haven’t looked it up, but it seems sound.

The pressure builds up inside the bag.

Probably, the same reason your ears pop.

Pressure.

Sometimes I wonder

if it’s why I get so anxious on planes.

All the thoughts getting pushed to the surface.

Excitement, when heading where I want to go.

Sadness, when leaving where I want to be.

Maybe it’s the isolation.

A bunch of people sitting together

staring at the back of seats

all unaware of each other’s

existential crisises.

Until we put our tray tables up,

unrelax our seats

and brace for landing.

I try to remember but it all just blends together.
It’s kinda hard to tell exactly where
the minute hand crosses from afar.

But was I happy?
(Yea, sure. I remember it. Splendidly)

No. Really.
(I don’t know. If I could answer. Truthfully)

But was it worth it?
(I think I’m. Too scared. Of wasting time.
Oh, god. Am I wasting it? Right now?)

Better plan,
to make the most of it.

Better plan,
to plan better in the future

Better plan,
hold off longer,
defer your own reward.

Better plan,
to live better later.

What do you remember?
(Not much. Honestly.)

But were you happy?
(I said “I don’t know,” truthfully.)

If you don’t remember
does it matter?
(I’m seriously unsure.)

What’s in the future?
(Hopefully, happiness.
Currently, hope.)

What’s the point?
(What you mean?)

There’s a future’s future.
-j.maxwell

I’m hesitant
to count the days
because it always seems
further away
if I measure time
and count it down

I used to warn
Connor about that
with birthdays.

But 4.
I know it’s 4.

4 more groups
of 24 hours

(96,
100-4,
25×4 -1×4
It’s easy)

until I’m
coming home to you.

RPG

I think if life were an RPG
I would have made a new character by now.

I thought I was specing in the right things,
but it doesn’t seem to be working out.

I’ve spread myself to thin
now I can’t do anything well.

I could have min/maxed a bit better
I want to try something else.

Maybe a few less points in INT
and a few more in Stability.

A few more points in Science
and a few less in Poetry?

It would probably save a few people
from rolling eyes at this mediocrity.

Just tell me what a reroll costs
and this all can stop existing.

Robert Murtaugh

Yea yea,
More consciously sought distractions
yeild once more to your
millennial pre-life nihilism.

(chants of lifting bootstaps ring out in the backgound,
but Ive never seen anyone use the damn things

Tale as old as time.
Beauty and the Beast shit.
Yea sure, it’s cliche,
but at least it’s well animated.
(Don’t get me started on Emma Watson though , man, the autotune made me sick)

Maybe I’d take the crowd seriously
if they added impecable camera angles
for some sweeping ballroom scene
where they in unison tell me to get a STEM degree

(Too bad I already did))

Whatever,
guess it’s Game of Thrones.
Late to the party, I know,
but I just got my friend’s HBOGO.

But shit, if I have to watch Khalessi bitch
one more time like a spoiled rich kid
until she gets another title for her stupid duck lips
I’ll probably draw one too many analogies
linking feudalism to our current aristocracy
and frankly that makes me feel a little bit crazy
even though I’m probly not far off.

(Fuck, man. I just wanted to kill an hour before work.
Fuck work.
Overeducated, understimulated,
even though I don’t entirely hate it
but im really tired of teaching kids how to estimate
it really ain’t that fucking hard.

(Holy fuck, Aiden, sit in your goddamned seat.
Don make me glue the ground to your goddamned feet.
Don’t make me pull punches-
(No, that sounds weird, see, it’s how we let them buy snacks.)))

Read a book, but
Jesus Christ this guy is rambling.
some pop-sci bullshit,
but still hadn’t explained anything,
Heh, guess we have something in common then,
I should probly just see myself out.
-j.maxwell