Dreams

I wrote poetry all day. I guess, my life is going pretty well. Money in the bank. My house paid off. Writing poetry. 

I dreamed that a Harvard literary PHD student (Is there such a thing) takes (steals) my poems and submits them as his own for his PHD. He is found out and it is a big scandal. The following international publicity puts my poems on the bestseller list.

Let's face it, that is the only way anyone is going to make money out of poetry.

Tell that to Pam Ayres, as she dashes about in her Porsche 911,  I guess.

Glass half full and all that.