On Youth

My stubborn, silly youth...
Busy-bodied, savvy brained;
Fleeting feet against the grain,
This youth of mine
Is a tiresome race.
My troubles, such troubles,
Silly, silly troubles-
So shallow they are.
I imagine
At the bend of some years
These troubles of mine
Will be laughter
In the waking thought
That the ultimate trouble
Is death,
And how I'm found chasing
The last bits and fractions
Of Life.
Well, I am caught here in youth.
Twenty-two is not so bad...
Though I've got love on the brain-
Time takes care of all things.
I should be more productive
And go out and buy an apple
To chew on for awhile
And save my teeth the trouble
Of all that carbonated garbage
And all the whisky and the smoke
To preserve my life impending,
But thats youth for you, I guess.
Today is today,
And tomorrow is nowhere,
Not here,
Not tonight;
No, not now.
A cigarette in fifteen minutes
Is all I can fathom.

maybe a drink in fifteen,
Maybe sleep in thirty.
Maybe I should read a little more,
Or learn to write;
Yes, that seems fitting.