It is perhaps something all poets yearn for. Not merely fame, the adulation of the masses or the soft tears of the ladies when you have to move on to another city. It is not even the rapturous applause of the crowd at a reading of your poetry. What we yearn for is financial security, the knowledge that our art is putting bread on the table and paying the rent. Writing poems is the simplest part of being a poet.
So how does one achieve this? How, in all candour, have I managed to cheat the harsh fate that hounds so many of my contemporary artists? Why is it that I alone of all of them have not had to sully my hands with toil but keep them fresh for the pen?
This knowledge is hard won, but I share it willingly. I learned early on and at the feet…
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