Easy Come, Easy Go

I sometimes think there must
be a higher power or a
great spirit
watching over me,
just the fact
that I am still here
retired at 43 and doing
what I want living in paradise
is evidence enough.

After all, I could be a drug addict or an alcoholic
living under a bridge in New York off of Route 32
somewhere between Kingston
and New Paltz
freezing my ass off
looking through garbage cans at Mickey D's. for unfinished scraps
or begging for spare change
on the corner of Main and Broadway
outside the Trailways Bus Station just to buy a cup of Joe to keep my
fingers from turning blue turning the respectable

stomachs of the
good people who have to work and pay taxes
and who would gag from the sight and the stench
of the
likes of someone like me.

Instead I chose to have
a good life.
One that I earned
because nothing

came easy
or quick.
I had to move my own mountains.
Plow my own fields without any fancy tractors
or high tech equipment
that would have broken down
at inconvenient times and then had to fix myself, because no one else could.
Scrape and save
and then save some more.
Do without
so my child could have.

Easy come easy go
is an excuse I don’t use because none of it was easy.
Easy come, easy go is for snot nosed

spoiled brats with too much spare time and too much plastic.

Who don’t even know how to keep their nose clean

let alone have a clue about what hard or easy is

and that’s all
I've got to say
about that.

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