Multi-tasking is too damn dangerous

I know people think

they can do it all, but they end up

at a dead end

driving their cars (like my Indian friend)

while checking their GPS

the road

and

everything else, at 111 miles-per-hour.

Old cars

have safety features

built in—like

no Bluetooth

Just a radio

with nothing interesting on.

I can’t write

and listen to my Indian friend

who asks me, “What if you could make a living from writing?”

“That would be a miracle,” I said.

A writer has to isolate

and pay attention to only one or two things.

Otherwise, he’s like everyone else—

not paying attention,

being hip,

on the cutting edge

of culture (Recycled Garbage).

A writer doesn’t

ride

the waves

of society.

He sees far ahead, beyond the storm

or

He looks back

at the sands of time.

The rest of writing

can be found in urine-soaked newspapers

lining bird cages

full of opinions

and the poop punctuates the words, perfectly.

It’s all bird-shit-gossip,

forgotten is less than a day.

Good writing hangs around

Not because the words are written down,

But because they stick in the mind

where they belong.