Fantasies and daydreams are meant to
Fuel the young.
To inform their actions and impel them into life….
Where they learn the bitter lessons of
How many mistakes did I make or chances
Did I blow?
And don’t tell me Happiness welcomes the aged
With open arms and passioned sighs.
Get a clue.
Did I really give up everything for Art or for men?
Not for love.
I always fantasized and daydreamed while married
To men who couldn’t earn a living.
And took mine.
Whoever I had in my arms wasn’t what I dreamed of.
That was all
Fictionalized characters that I turned into scripts
While I let myself be led around by real men,
Who hate me.
So here I am now, all alone, keeping all my money
And too old to be the hot young playwright
In a world where the money all goes to retreads and
I have way too much free time and I won’t starve or
Anything is possible if I don’t lie down and give up.
But I’m getting tired of possible and wonder
What can be?
Get thin and strong and keep the fire burning, woman.
Pray for health.
What inspiration can you find in this messy society
That seems to want the elderly to die to
Save some bread.
I don’t know yet.
I’ll get back to you,