Jim Trainer


In Being A Poet, Being A Writer, Being An Artist, poem, Poetry, Uncategorized, working class, Writing, writing about writing, youth on May 22, 2016 at 10:52 pm

I know the last time I wrote
it was bad on the east coast
I had wasted a third of my life
working in the building
and getting sober
and now it’s 10 years later
and young laughter wafts
up to the window where I write this
I’m still on shift but writing more
and the books are out,
one of them self-published
I make enough playing gigs
to pay my health care premiums
Tuesday will be the end
of an eleven day shift
I’ve played 3 shows and did a reading
on the clock, which is incredible
and the sobriety’s really sticking
I’m calm and contented
and on an even keel most days
why it had to take
all those hard luck years
all those fucked-off embroiled
loading dock days,
why I had to suffer a thousand
greasy saloon nights in wingtips
and a pencil tie
why I had to lie in wait
for the odds to turn
and squander my precious youth
on scores and sex and rage
just to feel young now, tonight
at 41 in Texas is a cruel mystery
and a gift, this new youth
mostly a gift.

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