Living well Means accepting risk Living hell Is risk-free

There’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already ignored

Everyone has a shoe size and a city size– I wear an 11 and a half and a 600,000

In the New Age everybody knows that everything happens for a reason but nobody knows the reason so, everybody pastes together

The high strung flaneur gives free advice to the good and good advice to the free

Social media is proof of concept That you can please Some of the people all of the time And this starts to feel mighty pow… But this feeling is a forgetting

Not to be outdone I cut my face off to spite my nose

I won’t rest ‘til O– prah puts me on the cover of her magazine

For the longest time we were convinced there’s something they’re not tell… But now that they’ve finally told… we can’t stop asking

Going home had come to feel like dining in a restaurant where the food is celebrated but the customers merely tolerated

I know how it must sound– A two-year long two—week lockdown— But let me expound And dish the lowdown: What we fear’s a hoedown

I thought I’d flown the co-op by living off the grid And yet I’m still a chicken only now I’m on the skids So I’ve up and joined a commune

Your search for a vein is now done in vain under the soft tyranny of wireless narcotics in whose touchless embrace

In my experience it’s not necessarily true that one plus one must equal two The sum is nearly always