I do not know whether to sign my tax return
"homemaker" or "unemployed poet,"
since both are true
One could also sign as
"questionable outlaw" or "would-be socialist."
The collective occupations
do not pay social security
With the ransom of our lives,
we do contribute
to the milieu of the USA.
I would not expect
a refund check
from an enlightened CPA
Perhaps something in kind, however
I would allow an ode or haiku.
There is a blending of vocation and avocation
The difference is Thomas Jefferson or Benjamin Franklin
Yet they were once and possibly longer unemployed poets
Now they climb our ladders of status
Perhaps they will share a rung.
With each day decisions are more difficult
We pass judgment and pay the toll on the moral turnpike
Horizons and expectations are shuffled
Today . . . tomorrow
words that I forget.
Art is real, personality is negotiable
Poetic license lets me drive my car
The angels in my back seat allow me to say
I know that you are tired young Neptune, Saturn, Venus
and so I am although I am not as close to the sun.
I use a pencil
that I almost threw away
Writing in the universe of surprise
does not see it that way.