Patron

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 work...like 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: rikwrybac@yahoo.com via Paypal. I thank those who support me one way or another.

THANK YOU!

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)yahoo.com

Follow by Email

Sunday, July 11, 2010

A fool

On the edge of a river
there are two people
who sit on one spot
each claims
their hegemony
over the definition of the dark
that now pushes into the room
filled with the sound
of a piano
and a fan

Cooly one begins to act silently
while the other punches out notes
as if they were steel disks
created on a multi-ton press

Each pretends the other will
give up
both are wrong
when the real king
dances into the room
with cap and bells
wine spouts
from his forehead

Ay matey he screams
like some by-gone pirate whale
everyone bursts into laughter
from the place
where one finally decides
that what is done
is worthless

And so
they all go to bed
to pull the covers
up to his chin

(mp3 file of Barry G. Wick reading this poem)

Copyright (c) 2010 by Barry G. Wick
Post a Comment