There was always laziness in that house of time-stained curtains
And the little people who lived there
For they were little in importance
Dozed much
And drank much
And talked much
But their dozing
And their drinking
And their talking
Was not at all dull
Why, these little people had dreams and plans
Of success
And hard work
And the sweat and burn of results
Sometimes they bounced on their bottoms until the cruddy couches creaked
Lethargically giddy at the mere imaginings of what they would someday do
And
Though they were not particularly religious
The little lazy people would once and a while pray
For Ambition
Ambition would take them to the top
Or at least to the park two blocks away
It would do great deeds with their lives
And take the bottles out of their hands
And the dark grease patches from out of the carpet
And the power from the television
Ambition would be their Jesus Christ
Would be their Answer
Would be their morning rooster, their red-faced football coach
So they all could not wait for the day when Ambition would come
And they talked
As they drank
Of all that they would do with the help of Ambition
But years passed
And it seemed Ambition was not coming
Like in a gloomy evening of Christmas it seems snow is not coming
And
Because it is not Hollywood
It does not
The poor little people aspired until they’d expired
And
One
By
One
They died