“One thing leads to another”

. . . I want to be quarterback. . . “One thing, just one, leads to another”. . . I want to be captain! O Captain! my Captain Crunch into the sea! “One thing, the thing itself, leads to another”. . . I want to be in charge here, barge here through the door, “who’s in charge!?!” Instead I sit back, kick up my legs and play a tragic waiting game. Like a dating game for patient bachelors with too much amygdala. “One thing leads, leads ahead of everything else, to another”. . . I want I want I want wanting to be enough! Never is, never will be. Wanting is a funny thing. I love 10:48pm, humid but breezy, a 65° that feels like a 65°, street lights and all. Got it and didn’t even have to want. “One thing leads to another”. Another being any other (any, all, or none). . . I want milk for my cereal, it’ll help me think.