Some people go on shopping sprees
I go on writing sprees
Especially in January and December
For as long as I remember
I get out my pad and my paper
And pull meager words out of vapor
Poems and songs and books
Starts of stories and million-dollar hooks
Titles and visions and dreams
Words come to me in streams
People tell me it’s a God-given gift
One that keeps giving and giving
So much that it gets in the way of living
Always pulling me into a hole
Stealing my time and baring my soul
Last month I made four measly cents
How the hell will that pay the rent?
It’s happening again this year
No Christmas gifts for you I fear
Just another season of misery
So much for your God-given spree
