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

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