By David Fewster

THE ROTTENNESS OF THE POETRY BUSINESS

The only time I ever paid a reading fee
was for the Beyond Baroque contest in 2013
and that was only because Nick Flynn was the judge
and I loved “Another Bullshit Night in Suck City”
and it amused me, as the author of
“Diary of a Homeless Alcoholic Suicidal Maniac & Other Picture Postcards”
to think of him perusing my poems.
So I send my $20 postal money order
Because I don’t have a goddam checking account —
I’m a POET.

Flash forward a couple months,
when the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th and
sundry runners-up are announced.
Of course, I’m not among them,
but the entrants are all from California,
with a preponderance of LA poets–
except the GRAND PRIZE WINNER OF
TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS CASH . . .
She’s a poetry professor from BOSTON
Nick Flynn’s HOMETOWN . . .

I mean,
what are the chances?