What A Waste

A poem written in reply to the question - "What is the meaning of life?"

I met my friend Scott the other day.
He asked to have a “talk”.
He was concerned about something.

And when those types start
you got to let them finish
otherwise,
the universe shifts a little and
things just damn well don’t sit right.

“You’re wasting your life.” he said.
“Look at you! Holy Jesus!
Getting up at noon
spending the day drinking
cheap tequila, beer,
scribbling in notebooks,
the dishes piling up,
pill bottles empty, on the floor.

Look at yourself!” he said.
’What a waste!”

I took a swig
right from the bottle
and gave him “the look.”

“So ...” I said,
”What should I be doing
so I don’t waste my life?”

Scott gave me an intense look
as if to say,
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask that.”
and he leaned in
like a preacher of old and said,

“Get up off the god damn couch,
for one!”
“You’re missing the whole morning.
Get out there.
Volunteer at an orphanage.
Help the local food drive.
Pick up trash along the road.
Make some money, a lot of money,
so you can enjoy yourself.

Travel, see Vegas.
Check things off your bucket list.
Put some away for your later years.
Learn to play the guitar,
even the sitar, I heard it’s in vogue.

Go to the gym.
Solid yourself up.
Hell, fix this shit hole up!
Help out, walk some dogs.Come on! - Stop wasting your life!”

Now,
I’m a good listener
and very polite
but I just couldn’t help myself
and I suddenly
burst out laughing.

A deep, swollen, immense,
pregnant, life-giving laughter
that just wouldn’t stop.

Scott gave up.
He looked at me
infront of him,
laughing madly,
rolling back and forth,
on the couch
and he shook his head.

He got up
and went straight out the door.

I bet he’s never once
laughed like that.

What a waste!