Another Man's Moccasins (Brought To You By The People At Payless)

​the last week at work has been...interesting. Another firing spree, a few people going away for Spring Break, and two full time employees moving out of state, the probability of time off, isn't looking too good. Yet I've been happy. I've received an obscene amount of customer compliments, and I've refrained at snapping at the management about my ten and a half month overdue bonus check.

Last night, Mayk put in his weekly appearance. He seemed somewhat agitated at life in general. He was still more pleasant and helpful than anyone else I've ever worked with, but, for him, he seemed on edge.

It turns out we were performing a literal interepretation of the old Native American proverb about walking a mile in another person's shoes. He wears size twelve, I wear eleven. But for the last week, he's been cramming his toes into my shoes while I've been enjoying the spacious comfort of his.
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Wed, Apr. 21st, 2004 06:23 am (local)
crabbitty: prolific and profoundhave you always (since I have been aware of youre existence) been so prolific with your poetry? obviously the profound part stems from high intelligence and astute powers of observation so that has probably been there since early in life for you. I notice that you write new pieces quite often. At least in LJ. I am just curious as to whether or not you have gone through periods when you are less able to muster the motivation, and if so how did you get from there to where you are now. I hope you dont find my question too annoying. thanks
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Wed, Apr. 21st, 2004 06:45 am (local)
akamuu: Professional ProclivityActually, I didn't even look at this as a poem. Merely my week at work. I do try and write as often as possible though. LJ entries lead to poems lead to Insafemode entries lead to short stories lead back to LJ entries.

I feel like if I'm not writing, I can't legitimately call myself a writer. If I'm not a writer, then I'm a waiter. And while there's little difference, letter-wise, between the two, I'd much rather be a writer who waits tables for a living than a waiter who writes as a hobby.

I'm always able to muster the motivation to write, but there are certainly times when what I write is total shit. I've recently learned to accept the fact that writing complete shit is ok if I'm writing frequently. I just have to remember to burn the journals with the crappy stuff before I die. I'd hate to be Bukowskied.
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Wed, Apr. 21st, 2004 07:15 am (local)
crabbitty: thanksThat was just a general statement. I didn't really think that your LJ was a poem, just had a question and felt you might be a good person to seek advice from. And I thank you for your help. It sounds as if Boston is treating you better than Phoenix/Tempe/Mesa did while you were here. If your ears were burning last night It may be due to the fact that KPatterson and myself were describing (attempting to at least) your performance style and writing to a new poet to the Mesa scene at the Naked Bean. Mr. Fripp has an open mike there every tuesday now. I struggle with what I see as the mediocrity of my poetry compared to many other poets. I am realizing some improvement in my presentation, better meter, more comfortable flow, breath control. Like you I feel that much of what I do is crap. thanks again
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Wed, Apr. 21st, 2004 08:00 am (local)
insafemode: Re: thanksIf your ears were burning last night It may be due to the fact that KPatterson and myself were describing (attempting to at least) your performance style and writing to a new poet to the Mesa scene

So that's what that was. I thought years of listening to bad open mic poetry had turned my ears against me, and they were trying to fry themselves off my head.

Best of luck to Mr. Fripp and The Naked Bean. I didn't get much of a chance to interact with him while I was out there, but from what I got to see of him, he's a great guy.