She asked, “Why do you write?
I said, “To get chicks and for lots of cash!
She thought I was joking.
(I was).
But I write because I have to.
The only honest answer to that question!
Well, unless you are going to claim
the voices in your head say you must,
Or Gog or Magog himself dictates to you.
No other reason makes sense.
It comes down to three things.
Ok, so there’s not really a third thing.
Well, unless you buy into insanity or divinity,
which to me are the same damn thing,
except one costs less and is more honest.
Yeah.
She asked, “Why do you write?
I said, “Because I must.
And I sounded so damn pretentious,
even I wouldn’t have given me my own damn
phone number.
(I wouldn’t have returned my call anyway).
She didn’t ask,
and neither did you,
but I write because there is a letter after A,
and people amuse me,
and I am lonely,
and I’m confused,
horny,
and scared,
because I want to create and I am a better poet
than person.
I write because I want to share and be honest.
And honestly, I am still holding out for
the chicks and cash.