I now have one regular patron who sends a monthly contribution to keep this poet alive. Yes, per usual, I'm a poor poet...and for some reason I'm a poor poet in its many meanings...but someone like my patron loves my work. If you become a sustaining patron I can guarantee you'll see writing from me on a regular basis. I do edit my mad. But I don't always hit it out of the park. At least my patrons have a chance to select from all my work...and they become the editors rather than the small-minded who often edit magazines and journals. Poet James Wright,one of his last books, held by two editors for the longest time that his wife Anne took to another publisher who snapped it up and it became a huge success. Now I don't have people like Robert Bly, Don Hall, or their equals I can send my poems to for a review before I put them on the internet or send to any publisher. I believe in opening up my "horde" for the world to critique or love. And it's expensive to send out my work, getting only rejection, so it's money I don't have for food, or the electric bill. Please send what you can via my email: via Paypal. I thank those who support me one way or another.


Thank you to those who have contributed via Paypal to support my writing. My account at Paypal is the same as my email: rikwrybac(at)

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Wednesday, June 23, 2010

The Optometrist (for my father)

As my eyes begin to fade
and the paper turns to mush
I've grown quite fond of 'puters
and the way they make me rush.

I push one button here
and all the letters jump
large letters make the read so easy
and the page no more a clump.

Perhaps it's not a screen I need
nor buttons easy tapped
but glasses clearing up the world
with blurriness quite zapped.

There's not a moment I don't think
upon my father dear
an optometrist who helped the blurred
and held good vision near.

I should see him with my fuzzy need
and knock upon his door
alas, he's gone on fishes' trails
to permanently snore.

(MP3 of Barry G. Wick reading this poem)

Copyright (c) 2010 by Barry G.Wick
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