one writer went hungry
and without
so he could write
about the experience.
another writer grew up
hungry
poor
and
he wrote about the pain.
one writer drank and did drugs
because it was the fashionable
thing to do
and
he wrote about the feeling.
another writer drank and did drugs
trying to forget who he was
to leave the past behind
and
he wrote about the hurt.
one writer slept during the day
frequented the streets
at night
because
a writer was expected
to pay his dues.
another writer barely slept at night
endured his nightmares
long into the day
and
he wrote in spite of it.
one writer liked to dress and
look the part.
another writer was afraid to look
in the mirror.
I can't read the works of one writer.
the other writer holds me too close.
(6-14-1983)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem