What the Fu*k Did You do Now, Olan!

©Olan L. Smith, Jan. 6th 2021

In self-drama induced events my thoughts

Are immediately, "What fuck did you do now,

Olan! and yes, it is always third person self

Dialogue. Climb chair and fall, "What the Fuck!"

Fall from a tree, "What the fuck, Olan?" walk

Or drive in front of a semi-tractor trailer,

You guessed it, "What the fuck!"

If you haven't had a what the fuck moment

You haven't live long enough, or have been

Incredibly fortunate in life. For me passing away

And still living is skirted event, death seems to like

Me and I'm under his skirt, he just likes

My fellowship. We've visited ample times,

Eons of reincarnation, and don't tell me you

Don't believe in it, frankly I don't care what

You believe, I know what is true for me. I don't

Recommend dying, almost died when I fell from

A tree at the age four. I hit every limb head first

Going down, then the root, and nothingness.

I drowned at the age of fourteen, went under water

Seven times before I gave up and thought about

My funeral. I walked in front of a semi, not once

But twice, first time a friend pulled me back

Before it struck me, and again in

College. You'd think I'd have learned, but no,

I seem to like what the fuck moments. I passed

Out in a bowling alley, fell right into a bunch of

Nurses bowling. Heard them working on me, no

Pulse, eyes fixed and dilated. What the fuck,

Am I dead, aren't I suppose to move on or something?

Every nurse in full action, come back to us, and

I did, what the fuck. Life is full of 'almosts.' I almost

Caught that fish, I almost won that race, but the

One race you don't want to win is I almost died,

So wear your mask, I hear my friend death is busy.