Tag Archives: future

What It’s Really Like Being a Writer

I gutted the chapter
because it was downright hideous.
What the Hell was I thinking?
That I could turn this macabre piece of bird shit
into something that was a joy to read?

I felt insane. Defeated.
I might as well jerk off and go to bed
but I was a fighter
because God never stopped pissing on my soul
so I went through it all again
slashing, hacking, mutilating
sometimes screaming as I did so
mostly crying
but I cleaned it out good
and then filled in the blanks
with something that made sense
thinking the whole time:
why was I a writer?
Why the fuck was I a Goddamn writer?
I would never be anybody. I was shit.
What a momentous waste of time!

I pounded at the keyboard
drank some wine
next thing I knew it was four in the morning.
“Jesus wept!” I cried.
I had to go to bed
so that I could wake up early before work
and work on this chapter again
because I was a lunatic in obvious need of rehabilitation.

Writing was a hard line to sell
even to yourself
even for all you other writers out there.

Goddamn you all to Hell.
I need a drink.

World-Wide Unrest

This is the time of night
when the cold wind rustles the dead leaves
when all the flowers wither up into little balls
of dried nothingness
where the radio plays the same song
over and over again
as factories close
and politicians get reelected
the wheel turns and turns
deeper into the mud
the children are made slaves
in order to have a future
and families become separated
over merchandise
while our armies eradicate God
in new lands
and the beasts of burden
perpetually shit on a society
that cannot collectively cry
that instead bleeds random sociopaths
as it rains pestilence
from the products we create
within the systems that fail
under the weight of corruption
and there is word-wide unrest
as thousands protest
against the walls of bureaucracy
while the thugs behind the wheel
laugh all the way to the bank
and all of our principles, virtues and very ideals
are bought and sold
in the institutions they have built.

This is the time of night
that I crack open another beer
turn up the Bach

and am grateful for my cat.