I
am an artist. There, outed and pouted I am.
It
would be wonderful to make a living as an artist type in word or sound or both.
Neither is terribly likely. Oh woe and waaa to me.
Famous
I’ll never be.
But
an artist is all I can be.
All
self-absorbed misery is worth it to me.
Yours in riffing free notes,
Count Robot
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