Free Poetry

I’ve seen them a few
times — twice on the streets
of New Orleans, once
in Atlanta, on a television show
in Grenada, Spain — students,
or homeless, or hippies (the voluntarily
homeless) perched on a curb
with an old typewriter, or pencil,
and paper,
with a poorly written sign
offering free impromptu poems,
though I am sure they would
accept a gratuity if one were
so inclined.
Given a certain conflux
of circumstances I suppose
I would be tempted
to try my hand in the endeavor,
but I fear the output
of my pen might be lacking
in the ability
to generate sufficient compensation,
not so much due to any
lack of talent or skill,
but primarily because most
of those passing by will
not care for what I have
to say.

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