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
