what does it matter if i'm low
if i'm cranky
if i lash out or drown my
sweet in bitter and my bitter
in fury
if in the balance i run my race
if in the balance i serve my muse
what does it matter if it gladdens me
what does it matter if i am elate
ed
or despond
dent
if i can still unlock the hoard of words
if i can still throw open the storehouse of melody
if i weep these words or sing them piping
like a blithe bird (who is actually warning
his rivals to stay the fuck off his turf)
what does it matter if i do it with a smile
or if i can't turn my frown upside down
i'm a writer a kind of traitor
a malcontent a fly in the soup
not a waiter