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.

News, news, urgent news!
An ultraterrestrial was found
at 5:45 on the New York subway.
The ultraterrestrial has schedule.
The ultraterrestrial has salary.
The ultraterrestrial does not have a hat.

News, news, urgent news!
Contact the WORLD, spread the word:
The ultraterrestrial is pale!
Science can not clarify
If the ultraterrestrial thinks or survive
The ultraterrestrial does not talk to the press

News, news, urgent news!
Protect the USA!
The ultraterrestrial is insane.
He does not care about Russia, Prussia
Lucia, or Lucian.
The ultraterrestrial has no ***
The ultraterrestrial is a disconnect.

News, news, urgent news!
We have the first interview:
Prefer to be in formula
than informed.
The ultraterrestrial knows History
(But can not tell stories)
The ultraterrestrial is weird.
He does not crave the car of the year.

News, news, urgent news!
Close NASA, forget Al-Qaeda:
The discovery of the century is here.
The ultraterrestrial is a Messiah.
The ultraterrestrial is a trend.
The ultraterrestrial is the greatest.

News, news, urgent news!
Beware!
If the ultraterrestrial is now a contagion
so the universe has become wasteful.

It lures nobody;
mediocrity of a pen
pieces unnoticed.

I breathe the breath of a poet
Held hostage by mediocrity,
Such indifference were the norm
Of unwritten rules and irony.

Among the bushes roses
Bloomed many,
But few survived
even a day or two,
For they withered off
With their thorns pierced
Through their petals,
Choking
From the words of suits and ties
That viewed the world as a monopoly game.

Child, you have two ears, but
do not let the wind whisper into them
with blind language.

Make your own path,
And set foot on the road untraveled.

Swaying dandily, quite carelessly
In the midst of nothingness
Caught in the web of cozy mediocrity
Of easy choices and unworthy muses.
_aby