I’m done with being
at all creative

It doesn’t pay in any way
even with the obvious
lack of financial incentive
known to all

But the emotional
and spiritual payoffs
that have been ascribed to it
are in truth nonexistent and

in this forest where the leaves
are nearly wealth and 
nearly perfect there is no exchange
as what is theirs remains theirs

and here I am with poems and 
sketches and of course
the odd guitar riff
Once again there is nothing
to be taken from this work

It is all about what you give
and what you pretend to receive

So while I do not object to giving
I must confess I’ve given much
and must conserve my remainder

because I’m certainly old enough 
to understand how little
I’m likely to truly receive