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Now

 I sit here on the 2nd floor
hunched over in yellow
pajamas
still pretending to be
a writer.
some damned gall, at 71, my brain cells eaten away by life.
rows of books behind me, I scratch my thinning hair and search for the word.
for decades now I have infuriated the ladies, the critics, the university suck-toads.
they all will soon have their time to celebrate.
"terribly overrated.
.
.
" "gross.
.
.
" "an aberration.
.
.
" my hands sink into the keyboard of my Macintosh, it's the same old con that scraped me off the streets and park benches, the same simple line I learned in those cheap rooms, I can't let go, sitting here on this 2nd floor hunched over in yellow pajamas still pretending to be a writer.
the gods smile down, the gods smile down, the gods smile down.
Black Sparrow "New Year's Greeting" 1992

by Dylan Thomas
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