Drive Like You Stole It (Poem)

our spaces are filled up with so many useless notes,

coined by uninspired copywriters 

peddling you this

half-assed ideal of a better life
that has never been yours to

live anyhow
learn to live, learn to love, learn

to fuck, learn to chase the perfect

whiskey with an ice-cold beer
lose money at the poker table,

root for the wrong team, fall in love

with a dangerous woman. or a

dangerous man
drive like you stole it

oprah doesn’t give a fuck about you

One thought on “Drive Like You Stole It (Poem)

  1. Perfect! I tell people I forget sometimes because my brain is already filled with so many things (some of it useless) and is therefore struggling to rearrange the mish-mash. That happens when you turn 50…usually. It’s a survival mechanism. I feel the same about Oprah. I mean, I like bread, too, but I don’t have the need to tell everyone.

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