one day, when I win the lottery I'm going to pay off my overdue library book debt and then I'm going to take my lady out for a drink in a different country, just because I can. as a poet and a poor player of instruments, a drunk and a breadwinner as a father of two and a husband to be, a ****** of horror flicks and a collector of vinyl, a surfer of televisions and sidewalks (or at least I once was) and a lover of foods. this bearded wonder.... his mind is split in two, there's a difference between what formulates in my brain to my mouth and my brain to my hand. how I write is not how I speak, the wires in my gray matter get twisted up and so does tongue as my mouth fills with spittle, but with a little thought and time my medulla oblongata glues together words of sophistication into articulate sentences. I'm an uneducated man, just very meticulous with the absenteeism of rationality that humanity has to offer. working a dead end job as a fluffer for the aristocratic industrialists in this mundane life of mediocrity, mutually exclusive and mentally exhausted with the surroundings of ignoramus cohorts. screaming on the inside for an ounce of stimulation where my subconscious can find no purchase, channeling outlets through hieroglyphics on a portable handheld typewriter. a hundred or even a thousand publishers could viciously attack my passion with the onslaught of a hundred or a even thousand compositions of rejection, but yet.... I'm still here. reinvigorating myself through the slough of privation and trudge through the days of menial work in search of surreal reinvention. far from where I want to be, in life and location, prancing down the paths less traveled, breaking every barrier put up, carrying mawkish moppets on each shoulder, becoming the ultimate goal achieving marauder. but until then.... one day, when I win the lottery I'm going to pay off my overdue library book debt and then I'm going to take my lady out for a drink in a different country, just because.....I can.