So many things appear to be available "at the cost of your soul" or your dignity, or whathave you. Fine. What outrageous price would you be willing to pay in order to get your three minutes of time at your local open mic every week?
This week, a trailer hit the internet for the remake of Point Break, a sure sign that it's time to take Hollywood producers to the shed and shoot them in the back of the head. Maybe if enough of them are killed, the survivors will get nervous enough to do risky things like, I don't know, make new movies.
Why not steal their ideas and start remaking poems? No, not your own poems. Don't find bad poems and try to improve them, find a poem that absolutely doesn't need to be rewritten. Maybe it's just too terrible. Maybe it's perfect the way it is. Or maybe nobody needs to hear this thing one more fucken time.
Marshall Gillson has called dibs on Taylor Mali's "What Teachers Make".
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