he’d go through money like water…there was never enough…sometimes go for days with nothin’ at all…livin’ off handfuls of dry cereal…taken right outta the box…generic knock-offs of Fruity Pebbles…or Cap’n Crunch…didn’t care…all the same…

just sit and watch antennae t.v. til 3 in the mornin’…commercials for cleaning products…seminars on how you too can be rich…rich…rich beyond your wildest dreams…he particularly took an interest in those…he’d start to dial the number…then just hang-up…

now it was just days of livin’ on dreams…midnight thoughts of a better life…like Johnny Carson…have some big house in California with a fancy car parked in the driveway…some wife who looked good in a swimsuit…homemade bread and butter served at every meal…he liked bread and butter…

and sleep…all he wanted to do was sleep…never to awake and face a day again…same old clothes…a bar of soap whittled down to a sliver…he just wanted to sleep…just sleep…