The Taxed Poet

by Fred Aiken

it’s best to tell people you’re poet to explain why you’re bank account

has so many zeros in it,

rather than tell them you’re a full-time, fiat-mining machine that works on autopilot

contributing minimum to zilch to an imaginary 401(k)

while listening to floating talking heads of the television that say buy,buy,buy,buy

into the reams of madness stacked high and overflowing from the binder

of some poor fellow’s portfolio that nets him millions, maybe billions,

once you account for inflation,

deep breath,

and deflation,

just don’t forget that being a poet is a tax write-off,

or at least that’s what my tax attorney that lives under the bridge told me