Hundreds of dollars
in American poetry.
That's what they told
me at the beginning.
Seems true
so far.
So, to be a poet
is not to be living
making a living
as a poet
in poetry.
It is rather a matter
of the poet's repetition
of poetry,
the making
of poetry.
As a musician
in the backyard
by trumpet.
The poet exists
even if the pen scrawls in the city
and no ear hears the scratch.
This freedom
is not afforded
novelists.
They must be careful
of cliches,
lest their shot
be shot
without dots coming hot
out of the printer's slot.
Also, dollars.
The poet must live
by other wits
in fits and sparks
starts and vaguer arts
songs and larks
with harder darts
to feed and accompany
the wrist's soft,
meandering
open fist.
Roman Ryan 