No Money in Heaven by Jeff Bagato

I buy my lottery ticket,
as a poet,
everyday I can afford one
before I buy food or paper or rent—
I buy my way into greatness
using the wisdom of a fortune cookie—
I take my stab—
I have no money,
no poverty,
no guts;
I work just enough to stay sober;
I’d quit writing if you paid me;
I’d be happier if my dad was rich

To stay young I fuck—
a daily bout, I believe,
will drive off death
or bring him in smiling—
I want to see his teeth flash
and his eyes shine when he comes

I run with the lottery in my ten hour dreams,
viewing my apartment,
my library,
my wives,
my hashish

If god were a better assassin
he’d make better paradise
for men—

but there’s no money in dreams,
no need for the dollar—
dreams dream themselves true,
and capitalism dies
in paradise—when poets win the lottery.

jeff-bagato
A multi-media artist living near Washington, DC, Jeff Bagato produces poetry and prose as well as electronic music, glitch video, sticker art, and pop surrealism paintings. Some of his poetry has appeared in Empty Mirror, The Five-Two, Rusty Truck, Futures Trading, Otoliths, and Your One Phone Call. His published books include Savage Magic (poetry), Cthulhu Limericks (poetry), The Toothpick Fairy (fiction), and Dishwasher on Mars (fiction). A blog about his writing and publishing efforts can be found at http://jeffbagato.wordpress.com

 

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