There’s Always One More

By m.s.wardrip

It ought to account for something, but it does not.

Thrash about all you want, even until you are exhausted,

It matters not, you will not change a thing!

Stacking stones pays little to nothing unless you charge for it.

You find people who pay you to do it and you do it.

All your previous talking should pay but it doesn’t.

All your toil and labor through the years should pay but it doesn’t.

You get old and you live with what you’ve got and without what you don’t have,

You get… here’s what you get… you get to wake up and start a new day, that’s what.

You get out of it what you put into it.

Patience is an anchor that keeps your ship from drifting,

Deep currents run below and dark waters flow,

Only the horizon doesn’t move, as it is with life,

At the bottom of it all is the deep anchor,

Put there by the one who steadies the ship.

Washed up on the shore of San Miguel, a bottle,

Anchor Steam beer from San Francisco,

A note inside below the cork reveals writing,

“Shipwrecked!” Off 7 ¾ Jalwan Tanlupi S.O.S.”

Says the Coast Guard, “It’s a hoax.” Throws bottle back.

Whiskey and women are risky endeavors, but fun,

Where’s my boots? Where’s my gun? Where’s my money and horse?

It’s the same place as the aspirins for your hangover headache, gone.

The bottle is half empty and the redhead is gone,

Stared into her damn eyes much too long. Throws bottle back.

Then, it’s let’s get serious about the apartment, the drapes, the bath,

Do the kitchen in Wildflowers and hang a thing on the door,

Still up counting money at a quarter til four,

It’s time to bail, time to get a good grip,

It can’t hit the fan if there is no fan to hit.