To be a millionaire
I am a goose
The guide to being everything
Do stuff and wait
For the other stuff will embalm hope
Until at last, it falls
Into reality, sloppy and red
With the tentacles invading your eye-sockets
In the calmest mind
The goose doesn't care
You're rich, but nothing
In comparison, it's better off
But you're smarter
And squid-raped
Join me
We can be a rich goose
Burning until the sky rips
And we are exposed in front of nothing
And it will laugh, will it not?
Burning and apathetic
With age, all animals are in the end
Birds and bankers, maybe cephalopods
But not lobsters
You can touch a lobster, but if you don't
Touch a lobster, it may just be a millionaire
I started writing this a few minutes ago and would like to know what it's about, I'm also hoping that someday my poetry will become famous.