Reader Meet Author #6

“So I hear your a poet as well as a hero,so what kind of poetry?” I was asked out of the blue..
I had no real answer so I blushed then mumbled out that just because I’m called a poet or hero does not really make me one
“So what do you write about then?” they pressed
Lately its been much rubbish about water and nonsense about an old pair of boots,I ordered another drink to fill some space that would hopefully change the topic
“Before all of this,what do you write about? Girls? Does it rhyme?”
Inhaling my pint I set the glass down,called for another and added I write about that..pointing to the empty glass
“Why can’t you just explain it to me?”  was asked with a quick puff of annoyance
My facial expressions usually give me away but it seems it was not being noticed by this point so after a sip of my drink,knocking it to a half  I let it fly..
I write a lot about being born broken hearted of sorts and seeing beauty in the dirt of this city
bad romantic notions of the world looking better most days through the bottom of an empty pint glass,a smoking streetlight as a muse
 feeling backwards in a forward falling universe of constant turbulant anxiety
a laugh in the rainy doorway on avenue A
 people squarely questioning round feelings and words for the sake of words
“Umm ok,and people like this?”..”I guess I will take your word for it”
I finished my pint
told her to look me up
and thanked her for the poem that she just wrote


Quick Quiz of Sorts

Get out that book
turn on any radio station
any bad cable movie channel more so on lifetime
listen to almost any music
walk down any street then peek into any place along the way
chances are there is a romance there
not the romance on the cover of shitty novels but a love affair with the idea of the black cat downtrodden
great stories of a misunderstood diamond in the rough working class joe with a cracked heart of gold who tries to do everything the right way but gets dealt shitty cards one night
in the pissing downpour of a rainy backstreet whilst trying to walk 425 miles home from a shitty ass job to see his only love now he is ducking alleyways of local crooked congressman loan sharks
who run gangs of inbred crowbar carrying NRA members trying to pin the murder the queen of the strawberry day parade on him even though he was home helping his sick father
pick tomatoes in the garden trying to be controlled by the tyrant who owns the short changing fruit empire.. let the credits roll
its lovely story of triumph of the spirit
give it 27 golden globes with 2 shiny fucking gold pulitzer prizes
so a proper question is though…after the credits what happens when that sad old song is done playing that everyone relates too?
A)does our happy working hero go back to work?
B)does all that grand charisma go down the shitter with his woman when the bank account is overdrawn?
C)what happens when the first job falls through at the hands of finding the second job?
D)with only one job is paying worth a shit does the proposition of selling other goods on the side just to keep some sort of stability comes into play?
E)with a now credit score lower than an tundra weather forecast will school or hopes of borrowing a shovel happen?
F)All of the above

If you guessed (F) then you saw this one coming a mile away, well done almost
everyone loves a great underdog survival of sanity fight story were we can all were the heroes’ clothes
now tell long would you want to live this way in real life?
how quick would you let your sister or daughter bring that guy home?
hey ladies how long would you actually stay with this man even everything else was knock your socks off?
How fast would you even give anyone like this the time of day if you didnt’ thinking he was trying ask you for money?

G)It would take you just about as long as it took to read this nonsense