A Shoe-shine man

Sometimes, I think it would be easier to be a shoe-shine man and shine shoes in Grand Central Terminal or Penn Station or some street corner than to be a writer who dreams vividly and pens possible and impossible dreams into schemes on paper.

But how happy would I be shining shoes that I would shine wonderfully into art when I still remember as I were as a boy who always wanted what was big and better and never small, what they said was impossible had to be possible because I believed it so.....

Random thoughts after 5 glasses of Naked Grape wine #27 in a small dull Southern City where the only coolness is in an air conditioned studio on East Pine Street while outside in the night stale and sticky heat has stopped and stayed like a thick brick wall no one can climb...save the queer who believe and know they can.