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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Thursday, September 22, 2016

Phlebotomist, Poet, Students, and Teacher

Her smile
her thick-framed glasses
her short black hair
over her dark skin
She's from Sudan
drawing the blood
in an Iowa clinic
telling a poet
he should make money
from his poems

The answer for most
would be yes
hell yes
yes dammit

Poets aren't remembered
for their bank accounts
in a chain of banks
or how much they leave
their families apr├Ęs croak

Just one poem survives
for most who write
It might not be
their best poem

All any poet should want
is to have a junior high kid
ask the teacher in 500 years
they should have to read
this stupid old poem anyway

One day a student will ask
this as the teacher points
to a poem on the glowing screen
It's old English,” she'll say.
Then the teacher will be
beaten and robbed
just minutes before
the third nuclear war

Barry G. Wick

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