The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth. – Jean Cocteau.
Was unemployed,
now I’m a poet.
still broke,
but meeting warmer women.
***
Out of work.
Money no problem.
No money,
big problem.
***
When the unemployment ran out,
came up with my theory of
poverty as an agent of change.
Could not afford cigarettes,
so gave up smoking.
Could not afford price of a beer,
so gave up drinking.
Couldn’t pay for gas, so I took a bus.
Later. Couldn’t pay bus fare, walked
and walked some more..
Good exercise. Shoes are wearing thin.
My patience, too.
***
Money isn’t everything,
just what everything’s reduced to.
When I couldn’t afford a bag of
Peanut M&Ms, I went shoplifting.
A man has to take a stand sometimes.
Might as well take some candy, too.
