Stamping License Plates

I wrote like a madman

Poured my whole soul into it

At least what I thought was my soul

Didn’t answer the phone

Forgot to shave and didn’t brush my teeth

Struggled to find my muse in the bottle

Only to get drunk earlier than usual

Strived to make great literature

Out of the mad scramble

Sloshing around in my head

As a dirty stray dog stuck his head

Through the hole in my front-door screen

I thought of the women I had been with

Their thighs, buttocks, and breasts

Their soft warm skin and shrill laughter

There might be a line or two in it

Sex always works, even in a poem

That is supposed to be literature

Maybe I should rot in prison

With a life sentence as an

Accessory to murdering art

Spend my days stamping license plates

Instead of harboring the illusion

Of being a creator of literature

Mahalo for reading!

Talk story

  1. lanninglee says:

    Fred, I this is great. You should try writing a 100-word piece for this month’s writing contest. Check out the writing prompts. Then write about anything that comes to mind.

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