Bad poetry

Sitting at Dobinsons
smoking
and writing bad poetry:
that is what I do
it’s what I enjoy
it’s what I do well.
I wish this could be
my life
but I will never be
good enough
to make a living from it.
And no-one buys poetry
these days anyway.
But I keep plodding along
firing off average words
from my bullet-shaped pen.
And I am happy.

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