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The Poet And The Apocalypse

if some form of an apocalypse ever happens
I'm going to be so screwed
I think this is how it would go:

with a bit of luck,
maybe, just maybe
as I drift from nowhere to another nowhere
I'll come across a commune
with gardens and fire, and maybe a typewriter

(many, many moons later)

Yes!, Oh my god, there it is. I've found one at last.
a quaint high gated community,
well, more of a compound with
watch towers and razor wire
but hey! as they say, 'any port in a storm'

I approch the guardhouse:

"halt, who goes there" the guard demands in a deep bellowing growl

it is I, just another guy

"what do you want?"

a place to be

"what did you do in your yesteryear life?" (a natural question, I suppose)

I wrote poems

"Oh, sorry about that,
we don't need any more poem writers"

so you have some already?


you don't think you need one?

"no, that's not it

what is it then?

"we don't want one"

this back and forth goes on till first light of morning
I have pleaded with eloquence, passion and metaphor
I am quite pleased with my performance

he then points to a hastily made, and very recently posted sign

" soliciters not welcome"

I've never felt so under appreciated in my life
well, except always

I should have become a plumber, or an actor


it still sounds better than being a poet in Russia
but who needs appreciation?
f.. them all behind the tall walls
let them rot and move on

maybe at some point
you will find a stick to draw on the sand
once scribbled, poems rock


recognizing that one is unappreciated is not the same as needing it.
though sometimes it does feel like a slap in the face.

this could be about any "useless" career or skill when it comes to basic survival

"what kind of work did you do?"

I was a gender studies prof
I was an aroma therapist
I was a circus clown

something to think about when choosing a career, if you suffer from apocalyphobia!


author comment

I was a cancer research prof and did not feel much needed. Lol. Now at the end of June I will be a full time poet. Less needed and going in the right direction.


Need I say more?

It's never been easy to make a living or feel needed as a poet, we've always had to throw in some good yarn spinning, a bit of gossip, news, a good recipe for nail broth, a certain sleight of hand if not downright chook thievery and a way with the opposite gender.

I should think after the apocalypse probably some weapon skills would be a good idea too.

My occupation has been poet on every form I've filled out for the last twenty years. On the other side it's also an excellent excuse to be a bludging bastard.

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

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