he says to me via Facebook,
and I thank him
for liking the poems
and especially for telling me
which lines specifically
radiate with him
in his world.
while poetry makes zero money,
it is invaluable to the the one
heart it may tap,
like a keg that has been
dropped out a window,
ready to burst
and soak the crowd
of a house party
that is about to be
broken up by parents or cops.
whether it is a friend
or a stanger girl in a bar
on Bleecker street,
an Instagram hashtag
or a restaurant in Glendale, CA
that has your sticker
on its register...
connecting poetry to person
never grows old
or ceases to amaze me
or any creator for that matter.
if you are an artist,
and you become disillusioned
or unceremoniously benign
to folks fawning over
or just appreciating your work,
you should quit now,
because the spark is gone
from your lips
and it most likely will not return.
because I don't rocknroll,
and I don't paint people with brush strokes,
I thank the dumb lucky stars
for the one or two times
a person has said anything about my work,
sweet or ill.