Lottery (an acrostic poem)

Living day to day, depending on his luck for sustenance

Orbiting his need for money and his need to be creative

The two pulling in opposite directions, their tidal forces ripping him apart

Today was a day where art and hunger went hand in hand as he painted

Every ounce of his imagination was placed on the canvas stroke by stroke

Revealing a mixture of magic and his soul, bound in sweat and paint

Yet it didn’t sell, leaving him destitute and feeling like he lost at life

Rug (an acrostic poem)

 

Ripping up the broken tiles by breaking them some more, how cool is that?

Underneath the subfloor doesn’t look that bitch’n, soooooo

Gonna lay me down some burnt orange shag.  Make the bathroom groovy again!

 

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