lucrative

Musings of a day-jobber

we spend our days
in abject toil
daily grinding our
forty or more
for the money
to escape
into paint
or words
or melodies

we came
to this vast metropolis
eyes turned upwards
to the building-scraped sky
and vowed
here we'd become
who we were meant to be
artists all

but the venture
turned out
mystifying
the path meandering
and landlords
rarely accept
performance art
for rent

so desperately
we sought
the mythical
lucrative
flexible
fortifying
placeholder
the amusing anecdote
to be told
on the talk show circuit
in later years
to show our humble roots

each night
this we pray:
soon
please
my big break
please
soon

and dream of life
without paper cuts
or coffee cups