Prosperity. Where it be. Feel like I’m
In a sick schtick parody. Pardon my
Heresy. Existential staples, tied to cords–
Reservations, never plied the door. From
7 to 4, finish my saga. Eating rigatoni with
Kalamata.. Date of escape, a gate for rebate–
I can’t wait. Willingly artfully intoxicate..
Write in my own crate. Universal dispersal..
Too much to the book, fell asleep, missed
Rehearsal. Switch modes, two hours
Later, fix pose. More optimism, but I’m often
Given reasons to raise quills. They say these
Skirmishes pay bills. But I’m not one to
Acquiesce. Back to my desk.. Why do I have
To over think? Don’t blink. Pour the Bordeaux
Into the sink, looking for literary links but
The dawn’s brought me to brink.