I didn’t come quickly to poetry
I never did find it that cool
What caught my attention
Was punk rock aggression
And showing my ass like a fool
Pursuing the simplest of pleasures
Like drugging and women and booze
I wasted my youth
Spitting three-chorded truths
When I thought I had nothing to lose
Lamenting my twenties and thirties
My foibles remain unsurpassed
Repossessions and ex-wives
And workingman’s strife
Leave those terrible years in the past
Now I’m much older and wiser
I’ve mellowed like expensive wine
I’d sooner forget
Than dwell on regrets
It appears that I’ve turned out just fine
What lies ahead for the future
Oh where in the hell might I be
Pushing up daisies
From down in my grave
Or charged with disturbing the peace
J. Archer Avary
