notes from the bar for a new prose poem entitled "The Man From Mars Tries Coca-Cola"

I've never seen Dylan cry. 

I am drinking a pint of Empress Ale.

I am reminded of Carol Ann Duffy's poem about Guinness.

I feel that, as a writer, I am out to exploit every human endeavor or worthy impulse anyone displays in front of me.

The story I'm working on makes me anxious, because it isn't yet a story, it's an anecdote.

I cannot let my imagination run away with me because money consumes everything. We are not consumers, we are being consumed. Money exacts a fee for its upkeep, its possession. 

Money is always debt. 

Money is always demanding your time. Money is the worst measure of value because the people who spend the most, who set the prices, are the ones to whom money has become like tap water. 

the ones to whom money has become a burden like original sin

the ones to whom money is a mother's overbearing kindness

the ones to whom a fortune always equals the measure of one man, when it could feed, clothe, and educate a small country

the ones to whom money is a wife more expensive than yours who will grow old the same way

the ones on a diet, trying to keep soda out of the schools

the ones who only know how to feed one man at a time, through a single straw

Money has become like tap water, Nestle baby formula. And that is precious too but no one is North America really knows it. 

it was nothing to them they sucked straight from the syrup bottle