i started a fund-raising campaign to
pay last month's rent because
the economy has tanked and on
top of that i am a terrible manager
being a full-time college student
on the dean's list with a full ride scholarship
and a 3.9 grade point average
a job as a bartender, and a member of a
successful and popular local band, as well
as an artist, poet, writer, and host of a legendary show
is not enough to make my meager ends meet
so far, it has been two weeks--i have managed
to raise nothing, zero, nada
of 2000 friends, one promised to send money and did not do so,
one brought me a six-pack of Guinness, soup, and $40, and one
graciously donated a bag of potatoes (they are delicious).
so i have decided to spend money i don't have
from a new credit card which recently arrived (they
give you credit when you are poor), to buy
a steak and lobster dinner and a really fucking
expensive glass of wine at the best restaurant in
town. that's my plan. it's a good plan.
i will chew this all up using 2000 bites on the tooth
where the filling just fell out of what was originally
going to be a successful root canal and crown
only kings have enough money for a crown
and then i will drink a boat load of rum
and come home to sit with my cat in the remaining days
before the electricity goes off and the eviction letter arrives
and i will watch cartoons, or maybe the unrated version of
Caligula or something from the 80s and think about
how nice it might have been to be a better person than the
shit-heel i turned out to be. I could have worked in a bank and
raised children and gone to the Bahamas on a ship
and had steak and lobster there on my corporate vacation money
before I died, instead of committing every last ounce of my worth
to pretend to be that guy just for a day because it made me feel
as if i had something to offer. interestingly enough, $2000 dollars is all that's required
to save my ass for two more months until the checks arrive for next semester
and I can suck-up on the money the gubment stole from everyone to fund my career.
that's a dollar a friend. a dollar a friend. a dollar a friend.
looking back, this bit isn't even poetic. it's just the ramblings of a
half-hearted ideologue, which means: one given half-way to fanciful ideas.
if only the reality were half as fanciful as my ideas, i could have been somebody.
i could have been a contender instead of a bum,
which is what i am.