The Fine Life
The Fine Life
By Dillon Mullenix
it’s a sorry life for a writer
sitting in a cubicle
sober
eating rice pudding before lunch
typing ridiculous claims onto forms
typing content into blank space
typing without feeling
typing for twenty-cents a word
it’s a sorry life for a writer
to die choking on a bottle cap
but Tennessee Williams went like that
lost in old age unable to write
it’s a fine life for a writer
to sit on a porch and drink ice tea
to hunt wild boar in the fog
to be unemployed and dreaming
it is good for the writing
it makes the words on the page come
the fine life doesn’t necessarily make life easy
but it gives you the time needed
to work
to starve
to fail
to live in less than desirable styles
to sleep alone
to publish
if you don’t give in to the cubicles
and money
fine suits
vituperous women
401 (k)s
and the rich life without purpose
then maybe
you can have your name on a leaflet
or in heavy pages of a thick book
Tomes over tombs is what I always say. I’d rather be dusty on a shelf than the dust of the self.
I liked the way you said that, Halifax. Although I must disagree slightly: I wouldn’t mind being dust on the shelf. Maybe I’ll change my mind when it becomes my time to become dust.
i found some anaphora in this poem and i have to say i liked it! And that’s cool as hell that this guy hunts wild boar in the fog–unless he was being figurative. He was–It’s cool as hell that this guy hunts wild boar in the fog figuratively. And i’m not being a smartass. i was pumping gas early one morning and there were these young rednecks pumping their pick-up and they had a back truck full of dogs in cages and one of the guys strikes up a conversation with me saying they’re going wild hog hunting with nothing but dogs and Bowie knives! Something about that intrigues me–maybe the primal activity of it all!
Awesome poem on the trials and tribulations of being a writer. I got my name on some minor leaflets and heavy books even though i gave in to the vituperous women–well, maybe they weren’t so vituperous, looking back on it all…
Now Quasi,
Why would anyone behave in a vituperative manner towards you? I just can’t see anyone throwing mean words at you…
— J.
Well, I gave her some words of tough love and she mistook it for a ‘go-to-hell’ letter. I think it was a mistaken vituperousity in me which caused her vituperous manner. lol.