i remember
how long long time ago
i would go out,
have a nice dinner,
get a bit tipsy,
listen to some cool music
on my way home,
and write a poem
as soon as i got back.
i just do not do that anymore.

my oldest child
just turned 18.

i hope i did not
fuck it up too much.

and i hope i created
a nice little anarchist
to continue my work forever.

sometimes i write
too many nice and smart poems
and then i feel a need to write
a poem that reminds me and you
that i am also an asshole and an idiot
but those poems
again turn out nice and smart.
i guess i can not help it:
i am a nice and smart poet.

recession is on the doorstep
so i bought some ethereum
and i asked pauly
to explain nfts in a single tweet
and he replied: no,
his “no” made me sad
but he knew i feel this way
so he also replied: but good morning.
he reminded me
how people are actually nice
in spite of all the war, money, and death.
thank you pauly, whoever you are.