Wednesday, July 18, 2012

poem of the day 07.18.12

the rich fiction writer

the rich fiction writer
has written another novel

it’s been six years since his last one
oddly enough the world has managed to spin on

the rich fiction writer
writes careful, boring prose

he writes like he has decades
in order to finish a sentence

reading one of his books
is as exciting as walking down the street
to fetch the sunday newspaper

there’s no rock and roll in his words

but the rich fiction writer
doesn’t need rock and roll

he’s won both the pen/faulkner award and the pulitzer
and one time he spit on a crtic

to some, he is rock and roll

it doesn’t matter to him
that a guy like me has to read his books
with a bottle of pepto and a garbage can by his side

i’m not his target demographic

yet the rich fiction writer
sits on my coffee table
peering at me through steel blue eyes
and a denim work shirt

i struggle with him as i would
a tough morning shit

ready to cry out mercy at the end of each page

only i can’t think of anything better to read
on another hot and muggy july night.                             

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