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Poetry of Issue #8        Page 18


Some poets write with speed
As if trying to stay one step
Ahead of death
Some write with the precision
Of a tailor
Wanting each line to be a perfect fit

Some poets toy with poems
Using each word as a building block
Some write hoping for a literary reputation
Some with the hope of luring women
To their bed for a night a week a month

Today a poet editor invited me
To submit a poem on fame
I’d ask him for money
But long ago gave away my soul for free
Being a poet
I’m already a millionaire

  A.D. Winans