.

.

I will be famous, I will have wealth beyond my wildest dreams

the worlds my oyster, I’ll have many beautiful lovers

bathe in fragranced adulation, sporting envy

as I sculpture my destiny with ease

carve my name on history

in skies beyond you

for I am special

unique

 

Normally

I sit alone, everyday

in my bedsit, watching MTV

one street east from my birth place

the poorest, wildest gaff in town, destructive

where dreams of men have no place to linger safely

the soul putrefies, visions fail, the ugliness of realism lingers

strengthening the sweated broken backs of the grateful gravediggers

.

.

© Paul Nichol 2013

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