The joy of being anonymous, that we would so eagerly trade away for fame.


To Trade it All Away

The bunch of us are free and broke
unrecognized and ain’t it grand
Which is a damn good thing
to remember, to make a note of
and paste on the wall somewhere,
to keep handy as a reference
if other times should come

No pressure of celebrity, recognized
and reservations never needed,
autographs and getting the best tables,
but giving up the incredible freedom
of wandering streets alone
And that’s a big deal, if you think about it

Wandering alone in streets or paragraphs,
able to kick back and play it out
Plenty of time to kick back here and now
and you gotta love that freedom,
gotta need that scattering,
gotta want that kiss of time

Sullivan said form follows function and there’s
truth in that, but he was an architect
and they know it all
I say recognition narrows all the options
and that may be true as well,
but I’m a writer and we know less and less

So here we are, hoping lightning will strike
and the smell of fame follow like thunder
‘Cause sure as hell, success will give a scent
to be sniffed against the last work
and make hounds of us, heads down
To work out the lines, kenneled by success

We want it even so, hunger for it, seek it out
And tired of singing in the closet
Needing our scribbled voices to be heard
and a good table would be okay as well,
autograph or not, at least a place to eat
We’re running eagerly to trade it all away

Poetry Collection: Broken Pieces
This poem is included in
Jim Freeman’s
poetry collection
BROKEN PIECES
available here in print
or as an e-Book
in your favorite formats.