I Am A Poem. There Is No

When I Was A Boy I Used To Dream Of Becoming The Village Idiot. I Used To Lie In Bed And Imagine Myself The Happy Idiot Able To Get Food Easily ...and Easy Sympathy, A Planned Confusion Of Not Too Much Love Or Effort. Some Would Claim That I Have Succeeded.

I Lie As Truthfully As I Can.

In The Morning It Was Morning And I Was Still Alive.

Love Is A Dog From Hell.

Keep Your Money In Your Pocket. Or Bet It On A Good Horse.