The Selfish Poet

I am no MLK or Gandhi
Or leader or saint.

I am no model of
Chivalry or virtue,

And I am definitely
Not a therapist
Or harbinger of
Hope.

Poetry
For me is a
Selfish endeavor.

I do it because I
Love it
And because
I am addicted to it.

If my words have brought
You comfort or hope
Then I am happy for you…
But I do it
For myself.

I am in love with
The attention
The fame
The adoration
The power of persuasion
The power of expression
The power of manipulation

If you are looking for
Moral leadership
Then you best look
Elsewhere,

But be wary
Most of the self described
“Do-Gooders” and “Saints”
I’ve met
Are actually wolves in
Sheep’s clothing

Roll the Dice

I’m sitting in a crowded coffee shop
Filled with college students
Who don’t give a damn
About this pandemic
And I can almost touch the Covid
In the air.

After a year of distancing and
Driving myself insane through
Self isolation I decided to
Live life again
Write poetry and

Let God decide
The rest.

Burning Calories, Drinking Smoothies

When you lose a
Hundred and Twenty pounds
You start to notice small
Changes in your life
Like

Winks and smiles
That weren’t there before
From pretty gals who never
Knew you existed.

People start to notice who
The hell you are
When you walk in the
Door

And that you
Aren’t just some
Large mass
Occupying an empty space,

That you are an
Actual person.

Then you realize that
All the Quest Bars and
Low Calorie Smoothies,

And all the long Trails
That you hiked on
Mile after mile

Where worth
Every damn minute.