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Empty Pockets full of Dreams

Submitted:Mar 4, 2010    Reads: 102    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   


I'm walking Lincoln Road
Britto's Art Gallery
I find half a bottle of red wine
in one of the dumpsters right
next to this "Art Show".
I take it, hide it, hide myself
and take a huge zip.
I take out my Butt-Box & light
a Marlboro where the idiot,
I guess drunk,
lighted up the filter & threw it away.
I feel the warmth arising in my stomach
and the anger swelling up my guts.
Art? This is shit.
Really, please, take a look at it.
$50.000 for wasted colors on
wasted canvas.
I finish the wine and light 3/4 of a Newport.
Finally I stand up & walk towards
the Apple Store to check if someone discovered me already.
I see this guy sitting on the side,
no arms, a brush between his toes,
painting & talking to someone about how
somebody put 7 bullets into his body.
I sat down next to him.
He yelled:"Go away asshole, don't you see I'm working?
Unless you have some weed or some money."
I just tried to give him some hope
but nope, karma is a bitch you idiot I thought.
Then I walked by Peter Lik "Gallery".
Where am I?
In shit-land?
My last butt is a Camel, real dirty.
Miami Beach
Cops are sweeping the parks
so called artists are shitting on Art
and me walking with blisters
on the quest to
find something to smoke
some more to drink
why won't it sink?
There is no Hope!


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