Good Lady Entropy

overshadowed by the things we’re told
we chase each other through our ventricles
in nooks of ill repose
we pose ourselves akimbo
casting compost into self-conscious prose
what a burden it is to eat
i stuff myself just to sleep
but when I wake up the burden repeats
never leaving me free
a brown-eyed young writer to be
so i guess i’ll have to speak
my mind to good lady entropy
i'll ignore her little smile
turn the key and say thanks for the ride
but there's barely time to breathe
our eyes draw lines of need
and nothing else will matter no
once i’m caught in her undertow
with toe to toe and cheek to fading cheek
and beneath this couch we’ll misplace irony
what a curiosity
when my heroes chastise me
as I leaf through their pages and read
torn asunder by the thundering neat freaks
from the biceps to obliques
so I guess I’ll have to seek
my answers in the campus library
staring up up at the shelves
all those surnames so potentially ourselves
and all the men tell me
you’re young and still naïve
you’ve years to work and life to breathe
before you write good poetry
cause nothing you sing now will ever last
no nothing you play now could ever last