It would be easy
to give up,
and give in,
and put on one of those
dumb
fucking
suits.
Everyone else does it.
I could do it too.
Punch in.
Punch out.
No problem.
I just can’t help
but wonder what
would happen
to these words,
and to the words
that I could have written
if I never put on
this suit in the first place.
What if I have
a poem that will
change the way you
see the world?
What if I have
the next great
American novel
in my head,
just waiting to be
written?
What if?
What if?
What if I don’t
put down this pen?
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