Canto XXV

I love the scene in Hero when the scribes
practice their brushmanship as arrows fly.
They do what they have done all of their lives—

they ply their craft until it’s time to die.
You never make it. All you do is write.
To say it’s otherwise is just a lie.

Fuck the Eliots, Fuck the Forward Prize.
Fuck the magazines and the bookstores.
And if the call of fame widens your eyes

reality shows will always need new bores…


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. peter litton
    May 02, 2012 @ 09:05:10

    Hero…one of my favourite films.
    I can still remember the imagery of a water droplet falling from a sword blade and hitting the mirrored surface of a flat calm lake.

    The second stanza is reason enough.


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