A Pocket Poet

A pocket poet walks the streets taking in the sights. His head scrambling with new thoughts and new questions. He is a key observer of life yet questions his every breath. He takes the obscure and brings it to the forefront, adjusting his aperture with every glance. He takes the minute points in stranger's conversations. He rambles to himself and taking notes in his imaginary pad, graphite flicking off his page, as he shorthands it all into his pocket. He can not sit still for but a few, itching as new conflicts swirl into funnel clouds of self loathing and doubt. He watches the news from department store windows and reads the headlines with ever growing curiosity. He takes in all the news of the world, he sizes it down, focuses it and fits into his little pocket. His pockets become heavier with every step and by the end of the day he feels he has carried the burdens of a thousand men. He undresses and climbs into his bath, content to wash all the world away. But his jacket lies just a few feet away, resting on the hamper and the bulging pocket distracts him from his relaxation. He lays his weary head upon his pillow and can not sleep. The weight of the world rests upon his head and he feels the cracking blinding pain.

This is why I am not a thinker. I chose not to think, well at least not very hard. It is conscious choice, I have the aptitude to accomplish the greatest deeds of the century. But I like sleep, I like stupid TV and reading Cosmo. I like my sanity with a sprinkle of decaf, nothing complicated, nothing to keep me running like a hamster in a never ending spinning wheel. I like the luxury of living in a bubble. It is safe inside my bubble and I have it decorated it quite nicely. Like the Wheel of Fortune, I turn over the letters only one at a time. I know what it spells but I fiend surprise when it all comes together. It works for me. Once upon a time, I took it all in and cared way too much. No one ever cared back so I stopped, content to pretend that all was well. I discovered Clinton and he told me prevention was the wave of the future but prevention never paid and the jobs he promised never were created. I wasted plenty of time volunteering my efforts, feeding the hungry, saving crack babies and taking blood pressure readings of the homeless who lived in the river bottom. Yeah, yeah I got a few thanks, a nice plaque for the wall, a broken nose and missed a few football games. But now I realize I could have made a fortune and been living the life I like to fantasize about if I had spent more time on me.

Now my greatest goal- to be a commentator on VH1's Best Week Ever! I would totally rock at that....... don't cha think???