life of a poet

be crazy. trust me. double bookings - almost always happen.
childcare cancellation - inevitable.
bad promo - yes. that happens alot to.

but the love of the art is what sustains us. keeps us coming back for more.
apologies for miscommunications are always in the wings. waiting to be delivered to the person that was offended most recently.

and you breath in the forgiveness. or not. you can let it mist beside you til the vapors - vaporize... but life will continue to turn. the kids hungry and homeless will still need action and not just poems. the babies born with needles imbedded in their bellies will still need something more. and we will just be poets. the ones that say we are about change. and rarely do ANYTHING to make change.

some of us will still be
the breadwinners for our families.
the artists that starve for fun.
the reason one may breath.
the reason some may cry.
the beginning of something beautiful.
or the ending of something ugly.

no matter. this small scene. with the promoters that are envious of each other. the blacklisters and life suckers will continue to roam above land. looking for their next in - in this life and the next. not so worried about the movement, but moreso themselves. not so worried about the game - but how they will be remembered as a key player in it. not their contributions -- but their accomplishments.

this says so much about the movement. where our biggest concern is how bright we shine.

that's probably where my failure to assimilate comes into focus.

but im not about the bling.

never have been.