poem #18

beachfront psyche
Asking too much of me, this life has never-the-less
made a turn for the better.
And I am as surprised as the next guy about it.
It’s not like I’m the most nominated film of the year,
but (speaking cinemaphorically) I’ve put the few million bucks worth
of butts in the seats it takes to break even.
Consumed by desire, I am going to give it all another try.
My self-hypnosis cassettes are rewound placebos:
My subconscious is crammed full of surface-level self-esteem.
Beauty is in the boredom, I think.
I think a lot too,
although that is a strange thing to say because
even always thinking of nothing
is a lot of thinking,
I think…
– Richard C. Armstrong III
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