It’s been four days

since I left my apartment

and my biggest concern

has been my dwindling toilet paper roll.

There are several benefits

to this economy:

1. No threat of toilet plugging

2. Eating less, so I am less full of shit

3. Writing more, to take advantage of the situation

I feel like Thoreau.

Still, I am gearing-up for writing season

This is going to be a wild summer.

Writing the great American novel is every poet’s dream.

My problem is that I don’t like society very much,

so it’s hard to calibrate their conversations and attitudes.

I prefer solitude,

golfing,

and the library

and my ambition is to be a writer, which doesn’t leave much time for living.

My setting is a suburban backdrop

I could write about professionals who have conversations about retirement

and who eventually reach the promised land at the local country club.

It would be depressing

although, I could do something like drop an atomic bomb nearby

to liven up the situation—there is nothing like the fear of death to force people to live better

But I’ll probably just work myself up into an intellectual mania,

watch a few documentaries on how to write a murder mystery,

and then plan the most intricate convoluted plots

that cause most of my readers to stop reading

except for

the most intelligent

who have nothing else to do.

Yes—this summer is going to be lots of fun.

I’m going to play golf while reading philosophy

and I’ll listen to the conversations on the course

I’ll eat Thai Food

and Pizza

while losing weight.

My body will be hard

and I’ll feel just like James Bond.

Possibly, that girl who has been ignoring me

will call.

Then I’ll really get down to business

but until then

I’m in heaven

drinking espresso

and enjoying myself.