punk rock tattoo⠀

you paid for your punk rock tattoo
with your daddy’s credit card⠀

and it’s well known that,
down at the mall
you’re a star,
a guru to the runaways⠀

I can’t help but break out
laughing
at your imagined rebellions
the hypocrisy of it
equaled only by my own,
smug sense of superiority to it⠀

each of us imagining
that we have somehow
escaped the system⠀

the universe laughs at gods
the gods laugh at me
and it only follows that
I should laugh at you⠀

the Tao jonzed on Wall Street today
the market value of coffee went up
and the price of Fentanyl
dropped considerably,
while three-martini-lunches
went down⠀

you and I will both
laugh at all that
while the brokers
laugh at us⠀

the universe
doesn’t laugh
it just
knows⠀

you and I
are nothing alike⠀

except insofar as,
we share an affinity
for scoffing at others⠀

we will get our
little giggles in,
where and when
we can⠀

before death has
the last laugh
of all

From the book in the current by Kevin Trent Boswell

Author: Kevin Trent Boswell

Kevin Trent Boswell is a thing that once blinked briefly in and out of existence. It made noises and gestures while it lasted. The exact nature of its demise is unclear. Some sources say it collapsed beneath the weight of entropy and time. Other tertiary evidence suggests the possibility that it was destroyed by a predator, an accident, or perhaps even by itself. The truth of the matter is unknown. Luckily, no one cares. View all posts by Kevin Trent Boswell