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
©2026 Kevin Trent Boswell
From the book in the current by Kevin Trent Boswell
