Who Am I?

A short, self reflection.

Who am I

Stumbling drunkenly 

Through the night?

Poet?

Hack?

Prophet of the blonde-haired 

Beauty sitting next to me

In Tenth-Grade English?

Azure eyes pierce the darkness

Looking on in wonder.

"What happened to my poet?

"Where has my prophet gone?"

Alone.

Alone.

Why 

Jack Kerouac?

Chuck Bukowski?

Dylan Thomas?

Why 

Have you become 

My heroes?

Shame.

Tomorrow

I wake the same,

Carry on

From day to day,

No money to spare,

No fame,

No critical acclaim.

I slept

In my truck 

All weekend

And wept.