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