Racing around a monopoly board, he finds himself out of control.
A man in his head, a conversationalist of sorts.
Pausing to rub his hazel eyes, the man adjusts his bleach blond hair.
Praise yourself like a red rose, he whispers,
Afraid of nothing but failure to the point of hindrance.
Newspapers, stale nuts, electric noise, various nudity.
Existence is simply a place in your mind.
A tall man, holding his chin up high.
Until you accept the shackles of blissful freedom you will be jailed from your subsistence.
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