ENDOCARP: A Poetry Collection

no more small talk

I'm done waiting

for the checks,

I told the man on

the other line.

just

another

vanity

publisher.

I'm ready to die

broke, and go down

typing that last

row of lines.

I'm ready to write,

to work my fingers

to the bone, to get

that pension for the

chance to sit down

at the end of the day,

and type a hot line.

the days aren't

long when you

really look at it.

come December I'll

shut down and curl

up inside myself,

then I'll be as

good as ever.

when I pick the

glass back up

I'll be sweet

and the pages

will turn and

I'll feel as if

I have a chance

again.

until then I'll

stay reluctant

and tell all those

interested parties

that it was never

about the money.

I just like

the sound of

my own voice,

or so I'm told.