a loser (of large enough magnitude)

My
life
is shimmed
with matchbooks
and cocktail napkins
and I’ve been swabbing the deck on
a wandering ship of fools for who knows how many
decades, now, and the static at the end of
  the AM dial is alive and teeming
with the whispered conspiracies of aliens and
ghosts whose passports, it would seem, have
been expired for some
time, but hey,
at least
the
one
good
thing
you can
say about
being a loser
(of large enough magnitude, that
is) is that you’re highly unlikely to ever be
a candidate for imposter syndrome,
  which (I’ve heard) can be quite debilitating.