Failure
I must have been in the middle of a dream
To have heard him call me a failure. There was
A time when I was called the seller of dreams. Now I’m
Called a charlatan? I sort of
Half loped over the seller of dreams title. It wasn’t one I heard
Every day. Just from a certain someone who’d sort of taken my heart.
Look, I had
To do something. One can’t be a
Yokel forever, and still maintain any
Gusto whatsoever. And
So I’d wake each morning doing a breathing exercise. A few
Oms. And then
It was off to breakfast, where I’d
Cook me up a some Eggs Benedict and maybe a croquette.
Then I’d call up my friend to
Tell him what I’d dreamt so frantically the night before.
A Man with a Few Foibles
Short Story That Would Be Different
It was
An era that took place
In what seem like unknown times, things were
Substantially different
Than they are in the present. We were
At someone’s birthday party, I’m
Not sure whose it was. It could
Have been mine. If so, I
Wonder which one, what year, at what age that
Late that very evening, or the evening before or after, I would
Be. Needless to
Say, one couldn’t imagine such
Things happening these days.
Moreover, it was hot, as I recall. We went
For a walk, the two of us, to cool off and to get better
Acquainted. We’d only just met, and would
Never meet
Again. It was a
Time that
Was
Terribly different than the present. These days,
We’d never have the
Courage to even ask the other for the walk. Even if it was my
Birthday, these things would be very
Discouraged.
Which is discouraging, right?
Everywhere one looks today there
Is another twisted soul
Boiling in the nearing distance. We’ve learned to just
Let them boil. It is the way, today.
In a Different Era
