he’s wrong, but he’ll never know

he’s wrong, but he’ll never know by Bogdan Dragos

he rarely goes out
in the summer

mainly just sits
inside
in his shorts
and drinks beer all
day and types
endless words on
a mechanical keyboard

it's not even attached to
anything
not connected

there's nothing to
connect it to

he's got no computer
and no
electronic devices in
the whole house

The keyboard he found
in the dumpster
one day while taking
out the trash

mostly crumpled 
beer cans

On that day he was
approached by some homeless
dude
who began calling him stupid
out of nowhere

"Why you do this, man?"

"Do what?" he asked, ready
to throw punches

"The goddamned cans! Why you
throw 'em like this?
Why did you crush 'em?
Now they're worthless!"

The homeless dude was
trying to tell him
that the cans can be
recycled for money
but he would not
understand

He was too much of a wild
beast
too antisocial

he lived among people
but not with them

and would hate them
for no reason

Back inside his
concrete cave
he would imagine
himself loved
and appreciated
by the masses

and would write
songs and
odes for them

all he needed in life
was that
and alcohol

and sure
he thinks he's very unique
in this
but here's where
he's wrong

No matter though

he'll never know

Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "he’s wrong, but he’ll never know"!

Check it out HERE!

Thank you!