poetandknowit9 Dec 2002

This is # ten. Ten poems written in my lovely honor. Come on Bacchus. You are a pretty boy; a hit with all the ladies, do not be jealous. Just look at what the hard knock life has brought you: the talent to ramble (sometimes in decent fashion) and call it new and inspiring and saying anyone who questions the Henry Rollins style lacks depth or imagination or is not hip with the underground. The "subbacultcha." To learn to digest prison food properly. To drop names of actors that no one has ever heard of. Go find an acting job, slam the night away at the coffee shop, play your Tuesday night gigs and starve in honor the fact that you my friend are a true "artist" and me, with a wall of degrees, and a line of credit into the astrosphere earned with (yes, you guessed it) writing just doesn't "understand". There is art there. There is. Yes. Yes.