Why I Write

It must pay to write

For some reason

About which I’m not entirely clear

If not for the income

I ask myself over

And over again

Why keep banging it out

Whether long form or short

These poems that no one

Cares to buy

Much less read

 

And then

As I was thinking this

And waiting

In line for

My chicken sandwich

I noticed this handsome

Couple sitting at a counter

Nearby and the man was

Reading Why I Write

By the late great

George Orwell

And it’s quite

Remarkable

Don’t you think

Or so it seems

To me

The QED of

Synchronicity

We encounter

Every day in

These midtown streets

And the answers

Happenstance

Chooses to provide

And it turns out

The only reason to write

As I learned from Akhil

Who learned it directly

From George himself

Is so that other people

May learn

Which is pure poetry

My friends

The way it comes

At you so unexpectedly

Sitting at Fresh or Pret

With a cup of coffee and

Sandwich in hand

So now I know

Why I write

The dharma of it
Right here and now

And for the next

Nine days at least

An answer 

Has been given

And received