random poem of fate

The topic is my American Dream. And even though the flag of this great country is bedecked in red, white, and blue all I can see is green.  

I want to be rich.

Like Kim Kardashian after the sex tape rich. Like my British butler serves me French Toast in the morning rich. Like do you know who I am rich. Like I name my 16 adopted children after fruits, colors, and directions on a compass rich. Like I have a replica of the bat cave in Maui kind of rich. Like Oprah rich. Like I wanna be a billionaire so fricking bad rich. My house will be zombie apocalypse ready with barbed wire electric fences, bunkers, and machine guns rich. Like if I walk down the street naked, they’ll call me eccentric instead of crazy kind of rich. Ten DUI’S and a lawsuit rich. Like Michael Jackson Neverland Ranch Amusement Park in my backyard type rich. Like fake friends, fake ass, and fake nose kind of rich. Like tax evasion is my occupation type rich. Like getting high with Snoop Dogg on my yacht rich. Like Island hopping Maui, Bali, and Aruba rich. Like posing with crippled Third World Country children rich. Like offending leaders of foreign countries rich. Like tigers on a gold leash rich. Like monogrammed grill rich. Like racks on racks on racks rich. Like bitch better have my money rich. Like money can’t buy you class kind of rich. Like started from the bottom now I’m here rich. They say money talks, so I’m gonna spit my spirit, showering you with gifts that don’t have a return policy rich. Forget snow, this season I’m gonna make it rain kind of rich. Like put your money where your mouth is and see if it tastes as good as my four course meal with caviar kind of rich. Like my job is merely existing kind of rich. Like basic bitch, juicy couture tracksuit, grande chai tea latte with three pumps, skim milk, light water, no foam, daddy just bought me a new car rich. Like Gwen Stefani “If I was a rich girl” rich. Like rich girls don’t marry poor boys rich. Like, like money doesn’t buy happiness rich. Like more money more problems rich. Like I ain’t saying she a gold digger rich. Like bouncing, gold hatted lover rich. Like greenback rich. Like green jealousy rich. Like green light at the end of the dock, spend five years bootlegging and chasing bejeweled beauties, fade to black of a lonely funeral kind of rich.

Like don’t get caught up in this money masquerade, this affluent act, plentiful pretense kind of life rich. Because Only when the last tree has died and the last river been poisoned and the last fish been caught will we realise we cannot eat money.

Because I want to be happy. Like settle down with a few kids and give them the world kind of happy. Like explore all the possibilities that can be happy. Like marry a person who can fill in my blanks kind of happy. Like have friends with titanium backbones and eyes to hone in on how I’m feeling kind of happy. Like house just big enough to fill up with love kind of happy. Like travel the world to discover my roots happy. Like stake my claim to my unalienable rights, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness kind of life.

Because that’s my American Dream.