Too Old To Be A Famous Poet

Too Old To Be A Famous Poet
© Surazeus
2017 03 06

Though I write metered rhyming verse
about the ocean and birds,
and keep a loaded gun in my purse
with a book of secret words,
I am too old to be a Famous Poet.
Nobody reads my lame poems and I know it.

Though I stand in the smoky bar
and shout in the silver mic
on becoming One with the Star,
then race home on my old bike,
I am too old to be a Famous Poet.
Everybody loves my wit and I know it.

Though I hitchhike across the land
to play guitar on the street,
and scribble all my poems by hand
on your oil-smeared order sheet,
I am too old to be a Famous Poet.
I cannot sing like Dylan and I know it.

Though I publish modernist poems
in collage of modern life
about migrant worker who roams
with starving children and wife,
I am too old to be a Famous Poet.
I remixed Ashbery lines and I know it.