The human condition,

conditions traditions.

Forces submission  and capitalism.

What a charming revision.

The human condition,

lacks capitalism via punctuation.

For capitalism would imply grammatical celebration,

when indeed it’s definition reflects cannibalism.

The human condition,

is sad repetition.

Life and death played out in suburban subdivisions

The human condition,

drives youth to self inflicted incisions.

Suicide contemplations,

cases and cases of denaturation.

The human condition,

screams for detoxification,

or better yet,



I miss driving fast

The long summer days have collapsed

We would get high on the ski mountain

Asking Jim to drive again


I miss my piece of shit car

That beautiful purple interior

The time spent in the back seats

Steamed windows

Dripping streaks


I miss my old friends

Well maybe I just pretend

It was the second guessed perception

That lead to the end


But, those days are gone

Repeated and stressed like an old song

With all longing aside

The simple days of that youth are gone


Now we sit and drink warm beer

In constant financial fear

Crippling debt is just part of life

Fucking amazing, right?


19th birthdays full of pink

Dumping vodka in my rented sink

Looking like trash

With a group of friends to match


These days will eventually be gone

After they become repetitive like that old song

Longing aside

Every single shining youthful moment will soon die

Trashed Tuesday 

Drinking can be a bore,

Vomiting in foreign toilets,

With strangers holding our hair.

Then thanking those strangers like they are the grandma you haven’t seen in years.

If we all just got stoned none of this would happen,

We’d just sail away from our problems,

Never looking back.

Putting condiments on an undercooked hot dog,

And then proceeding to eat the entire thing.

Even though you are vegetarian…


Well maybe, let’s not get stoned.

How about we all just drink tea together in the woods?

We could all wear little hats,

It would be ever so cute,

No one would vomit.

No one would break their vegetarianism in a hungry rage. 

It would be polite and quaint,

Until you realize you have all been drugged…

Walking up face down in the grass,

With no memory of what happened.

Just an unintentional high blur.

Or we could just go to church,

Breathe Jesus right into our lungs.

Like a drag from a holy joint,

We could all sing Hozier and have a grand old time.

Until the minister kicks us out,

Claiming we are disruptive to the service,

“It says ‘all welcome’ on the sign sir, I mean father…”

Well maybe not church, and defiantly not tea parties in the abandon woods. 

What are we to do with ourselves then? 

Get into border line criminal shenanigans? 


Like every other teen does?