Prophet Lost In Laughter

I could profit like a boss
but I'm a prophet at a loss-
watch me cop to losing proper
as I'm proffering the sauce;
raise a glass aloft to losing
races past and pass the boozing
glass and loosen up your tie and try
your ass at what's amusing;
though at last I find some winning
plans I understand the spinning
of the land beneath my feet will keep
my path from fleet beginnings - 
super wistful due to fistfuls of the time I had for spending
getting tossed into the wind like it was simply never ending
Still I kill it when I'm aiming
got some skill in silly gaming
and the rules are what you make 'em
I'll get anything I'm naming-
I'm parading if it's raining
if it's quiet serenading's
what I try it sends thought flying
but I never mind the braining
so I'll smile clever all the while passing out the liquor...
though the fear's a fast emotion I hear laughter moves you quicker