P.214: "... I talk to myself, as one who has plenty of time"
I TALK TO MYSELF, AS ONE WHO HAS PLENTY OF TIME
though time is precisely what I have not.
I say to myself as I write this rhyme:
As poet I know I'm not so hot,
so why am I wasting my dwindling hours
on what is a pastime, nothing more.
Shouldn't I be using my artist powers
on something closer to the core
of what I'm on this planet for?
Are you saying what I think you're saying,
comes a reply from the other me,
that time is wasted when you're playing?
Okay, I say, I do agree
that art and play are interconnected,
but how will I ever be respected
if all I can add to my CV
is a rhyme for you and a rhyme for me?
Suddenly, would you believe,
something pops out of my sleeve.
It's Zarathustra and he's peeved,
shoves me and my other self away.
I'm the one you called today
when at my words you aimed your finger,
you're in luck 'cause I can linger.
Forget about esteem,
read what I said, page two-sixteen:
"....spread out laughter like a coloured canopy."
Avoid the bland, the syrupy,
the fake, the flip, the pre-digested.
And with this my case is rested.
comes a reply from the other me,
that time is wasted when you're playing?
Okay, I say, I do agree
that art and play are interconnected,
but how will I ever be respected
if all I can add to my CV
is a rhyme for you and a rhyme for me?
Suddenly, would you believe,
something pops out of my sleeve.
It's Zarathustra and he's peeved,
shoves me and my other self away.
I'm the one you called today
when at my words you aimed your finger,
you're in luck 'cause I can linger.
Forget about esteem,
read what I said, page two-sixteen:
"....spread out laughter like a coloured canopy."
Avoid the bland, the syrupy,
the fake, the flip, the pre-digested.
And with this my case is rested.
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