“Do you think you can make a difference?”
“Probably. I mean, maybe, if enough of the right people – I don’t know who that is by the by, Not A Clue – lend my writing the time. It’s fierce hard, harder more so because of where I am at.”
“And where is that exactly, may I ask?”
“At home, in the sticks, smoking cigarettes ’til there’s smoke pouring out of my goddamn ears. and sitting eating pure shite, really. I’m pretty damn bitter, actually.”
“Huh, why bitter?”
“It’s a long and rather selfish story, but bottom line is I suffered with incredibly insane anxiety for the better – or worse – part of my life. Excruciating, persistent, and all kinds of ferocious anxiety, and I’m at a crazy crossroads where there doesn’t seem to be any real way out.”
Fuck, sorry to hear that. But you look okay.”
“Appearance is a lying bitch. See these crows feet that stretch like a bitch, that’ll be thirty cigarettes a day, one light, thirty smokes – the ultimate chainer.”
“Ah Jesus, man, that can’t help anything!”
“Hell no, it’s horrible, I can barely breathe, but it’s proving pretty damn near impossible to quit, you know?”
“Nope, thankfully I don’t. You gotta at least try, no?”
I can’t, the day’s too long altogether with too little occurring besides. All I seem to have is my writing.”
“What do you want to do with it, all in all?”
“Look, I’ve got about two thousand plus poems on my website, and there are definitely enough good poems in there to perhaps make a difference if they get the right kind of break. It’s like I say, fierce hard. You’re not in the game at all, so you’re left on your lonesome trying to dissect every single goddamn word, what sentence might work, and why it works. It’s impossible for me to know. I wouldn’t care what people think if I had some sort of a life occurring around it, but it’s starting to get a little embarrassing because certain people are thinking, Poetry, what a fairy! And that’s my decision, but it’s not poetry, it’s this monstrous need to write something that even those fuckers can go, Shit this guy’s actually not playing around here, is he?”
“Nuh uh, I’d far rather get sizzled drunk and kick back a little with friends than do this. If by some chance I do make something of it then at least I can say that these years weren’t entirely wasted as such and hellish. You know?”
“You’re eccentric.”
“Who knows, one man’s normal is another man’s… whatever the saying goes.”
“I wish you well. Now let’s leave all of that at the door and get to work on this bottle of dastardly.”
“Amen to that.”