few hours per day for escaping, a bottle of
rotgut open and some music; thoughts drift
away from the tediousness of life, new
dreams materialize out of the mist. for a
few drunken hours everything feels possible,
even the wildest dream ripe for the taking.
when the hangover comes, lost dreams remain
suspended in the mist, waiting for another
expedition to set them free.
within smoky barrooms great dreamers come alive,
in between the fifth and eighth drink, and they only
temporarily die when they’re dragged back to
coffins shaped like supermarkets, warehouses, and factories.
George Gad Economou has a Master’s degree in Philosophy of Science, currently works as a freelance writer, and has published three novels and two poetry collections, with the latest being his horror novel, The Lair of Sinful Angels (Translucent Eyes Press). His words have also appeared in Spillwords Press, Ariel Chart, Cajun Mutt Press, Fixator Press, Horror Sleaze Trash, Outcast Press, The Piker Press, The Beatnik Cowboy, The Rye Whiskey Review, and Modern Drunkard Magazine.
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