Writers are neurotic.
We all know this.
We all want to, like Jeremiah,
Shut up…
But we cannot.
How I wanted to put away the pen several thousand times.
Life would be easier if I could go work at a warehouse for a little above minimum wage.
Live in a little shanty hut like in Rio.
What made my writing chaff
Was that the Aliens and Sedition acts were passed by Congress.
A long time ago, like 1800’s long,
But essentially,
It precludes me from free speech.
But, I’ll challenge it.
Never knew Madison was a tyrant;
But, you know, I have to criticize
Otherwise we all might end up like Rio.
I like having options.
I like that I can make money on my writing.
I like that the guy at Panera Bread made 30 cents an hour
And became an obviously rich man.
I just think it’s a lot harder these days,
If not impossible,
To follow in those footsteps.
I’d like it to be available to everyone,
Not just a privileged few.
I was having a conversation in a dream
With a “King”, and he said ya’ll make 30,000
Dollars today’s money—the poorest—
If we diversified the markets.
So ya’ll could make money writing
Painting, cooking, carpentry.
I thought to myself that 30,000 dollars today’s money
Could buy me a nice life;—
And I wouldn’t have to go into substantial debt
Nor work like a dog to get it.
Rather, to eat off of your own labor
And to be free.
That sounded like Capitalism to me,
And it sounded fair.
B. K. Neifert 