Selling the product of writing.

The Hard Part

The hard part isn’t the writing
That comes easy, like dinner
when you know someone else
will pick up the check
The hard part is where the hard part always is
The hard part is selling,
getting someone interested enough
in the shoes you cobble
or the nuts and bolts or words,
to pay you for them

Shoes and nuts and bolts and words are product
Stuff that slides off the line and needs a home,
peddler’s work
Market forces intercede in good times and bad,
a million people sewing leather,
ten million more pulling punch-presses
and stringing words together, properly spelt
You got product, you gotta move it
Don’t tell me if it’s good, don’t tell me how you sweat,
tell me the hard part, if it will sell

Poetry Collection: The Smell of Tweed and Tobacco
This poem is included in
Jim Freeman’s
poetry collection


available here in print
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