optimism- 

or an unreasonable facsimile



it’s perturbing like happy hippiechicks sustaining yoga postures at bus stops when you bought 

five dollars worth of pot for twenty and even drove over the hill for it, only to come home to your 

caller i.d. telling you it could have been obtained, and more for less, a block away.  a shame.  

then,



ol’ bashful resurfaces, pimple free, and says hi but doesn’t seem half as impressed with you as he 

used to- are your powers failing?  you never wrote him back because you didn’t have anything 

nice to say so you didn’t say anything at all, now in retrospect you could have at least mentioned 

what fun the mushrooms were.  you might as well watch the pot ‘cause it’s still gonna boil and 

you oughtta ignore any fucker who tells you otherwise.



the flight to mommy friday will go as planned so long as they haven’t started bombing yet, you 

told her that if they do you’ll be staying at home because you’re unwilling to die without your 

babies.  plus, there must be haircolors you’ve yet to explore, too many things left to do and a 

nobel prize still to be won, will your cats know how to follow you to faerie-witch-goddess 

heaven?  or will you have to follow them to kittycat paradise and eat fish everyday forever?  how 

to choose?  it’s



all perturbing like happy hippiechicks sustaining yoga postures when you wonder if the world is 

gonna end before you meet the texan, and you’ll never know if you would have made it to high 

priestess, plus you have a lot of money invested that will do you no good blown to smithereens, 

but now that you scored an eighth and have come to terms with the future you oughtta just kick 

back roll a fatty and try to emulate the fucking happy hippiechick ‘cause at least she’s gonna go 

in 		peace, man.