I sometimes wonder what
my neighbors think of me
obviously they are
completely oblivious
to the genius writer
that lives next door
one that has been published
online and in print
who gets virtual
and real life compliments
from respected
editors
friends
and writers alike
the only one on the
entire street sipping
Rare Breed
Eagle Rare
Laphroaig
Ardbeg
or a random single barrel pick
the only one toasting sticks like
Padron
Ashton
or Arturo Fuente
the only one piping
small-batch releases
from a hundred dollar Savinelli
a true cultured motherfucker
enjoying top shelf luxuries
that they could never
understand the depth of
or truly appreciate themselves
but in all actuality
to be completely honest
they are probably thinking
something to the effect of…
I hate living next
to that son of a bitch
he never speaks
he is always out back
drinking and smoking pipes
or those stinky-ass cigars
not too mention all the
obnoxiously loud vulgarities
when he is cursing at flies
he may be genuinely crazy
touché neighbor
touché
Gloomy Forebodings 