on the metamorphosis of artist to beggar

you thought there would be more monarchs at the end -- and perhaps there are, far too far above to see -- here, in this wasteland of husks
and maggots.

how many times have you circled back around to the same point in life?

all these useless rotations; little changes for a hopefool.

not [ ] enough, each time.

it's simple math, really:

vague expectations - vague expectations =

now, you shake a digital can in an imaginary corner,
vainly waiting "to be discovered."

tomorrow, the rent is due.

today, you do not know how you will pay it.

and yet:

you're not dead--

yet.