Sunday, June 12, 2011


Most of our selfishness

comes from the fear

of loosing ourselves

to the magic of enterprise

expiration date at sunrise

i need a hobby.
anything to get me away
from writing.

writing is making me
much too old in this time
of life when I should
be much younger.

she screams at me:
you're a writer!
what good are you?
i should have married
a drunk, a fool,
anything but a writer!

i could sober up a drunk!
i could make something
out of a fool!

what can i do with a writer?
writers are nothing!
how do i make something
out of nothing?

i said: but, honey,
I'm a bad writer;
that doesn't count 
as a writer.

she said, okay then.
I can work with that. 

love has stepped in my food.

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