Everybody dreams
of the lottery win
of stratospheric soar of stock
the exuberant handstand of fate
changing nose pushed against shop window
to gold credit card.
Antarctica.
Generous remuneration
gratis living expenses
closed shop.
Catch 22
only those who have gone
get to go
except with help from the inside.
Robert, thirty something – about to be 40
friendly enough
but always trying it on
with much younger women.
We called him the rampant penis – no affection or envy
old enough to be their old man
and to know better. I thought him a fool.
The interviewer looks at the application form
noting the small town address and probability I knew Robert
“he’s been with us a few years now.”
I enthuse in affirmative
“a great guy
I have a lot of time for him.”
For the story behind a story click Backstage
Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry 