If you want -
you can find them here
all those out of shape
poets and writers,
stooping to ungodly
behaviour, drinking
with demons, wrestling
with angels, scrounging
for words on broken tables
trying to make them fit,
words like - honesty - beauty,
- *** - hunger - words that hold
you for a while then let you
slip - unsatisfied. There is a
sickness in this line of work
an inexcusable existence,
a drowning madness,
a longing that leaves you
feeling unqualified. If you
want - you can find them
here, within these hours that
never sleep. Now I know
why Hemingway wrote
standing up …
Clay.M