Advice for my son

My son, on the cusp of manhood,

comes to me for advice

and asks

what he should do with his life.

I've been waiting for this moment

for longer than I have been a father,

rehearsed the wisdom I would impart,

and send not a boy

but a man on a path

of virtue and philosophy.

And I choke

because all I can advise

is that it sucks to work an office 9 to 5

where you spend your time writing poetry on the toilet

and in the cubicle next to you,

a man farts

and cries.