I want to do stand-up comedy laying down

I want to play chess blindfolded

I want to write the great American novel on heroin

And I told you to shut shut up
You talk and sip
I’m busy
You sip
Sip your iced mocha latte
You green tea algorithm
Your double shot of peppermint medicine
And I tell you to shut up

I go downtown
There is a man in a red velvet suit
He has prickly whiskers and takes my hand
We sit down at the poor lighted bar
I order him a Shirley Temple and I get gin
He says that his wife is lovely
I say nice
We sip
Sip
And it feels right
Then he orders
A double espresso with gravity defying whipped cream
A mint iced tea that does your taxes
Sip
sip
I tell him to shut up
Sip
sip
I tell him to shut up
He lifts up his cup and hits me on the forehead with free range vanilla pumpkin extra whipped strawberry treatment prepared on the body of a dead hipster who’s clothing is made of kale
I drop dead

And get buried under a half gay strip club and half library that was created by the Amish
My gravestone says
It’s ironic