just me and my words
it's my beginning
and it'll be my end
I don't want your fame
but maybe a bit of your riches
okay, yeah, I lied
I want a little of your fame
but I want only those I give
a fuck about knowing me to know
who I am
not you pansy elitists who wet
yourselves over the latest poet laureate
not you robotic suits who would want me
to sign in blood for the rights to my books
not you overindulged trust fund babies
who would buy my shit even if it sucked
no, I want
you who don't give a fuck who Ted Kooser is
you who would be sorely disappointed if I sold
my soul to those Hollywood fucks
you who spend your hard-earned money
just to buy my shit unless it sucks
when all is said and done and I've written
my last words
you will be the ones left
the ones that mattered
the ones who watched as I bled through
my words and read between the drops
when the fame and fortune are gone
and the literary fucks are debating if I
was a genius or a hack
it will just be
me and my words
it's my beginning
and it'll be my end
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