Poem #2,692 | Minimalism

Confections of other lives
in Vanity Fair – run ads on
every surface – pump our
minds with legal drugs &
feel that burn [imbibe all
that stuff – whatever it is]
& pull a lover’s plight – to
filter subfusc – We buy all
we desire to gain a lesser
life – extend yourself with
an extra bedroom [avoid
considering how many’ll
ever be used] – I know all
those types who never‘ll
admit to being fools – My
place is big enough to be
here in now & not paying
out for an unfixed future