waiting is something that can take forever

sometimes a man should stop
asking questions
which may take
an awful lot of time
finding
the answers.

he should just act.

like getting his poetry out
or have the ball rolling by now
on that
two way chap
that’s been cooking for months ;

waiting
is for poetry written twenty years ago.
now with few poems
already published
wearing small press badges,
other poems
awaits
for some kind of affirmation
only to be told
by editors and publishers
that they’d enjoyed reading the poems,
don’t hesitate to submit again,
or they’d already selected the poems
to be featured
on their next issue,

or waiting
can be for a chapbook
or the idea of a two way chapbook
where the other writer
just wants to get his poetry out
and i keep on
messing things up
by changing my mind
about the concept
about the layout
about the title of the chapbook
about the number of poems to be included
reflecting my clinging naivety;

the other writer said to me
there’s no bread to be made
in small press.
a sound advice
waiting
to be realized
as genius strikes
one more time
then comes another poem,
and believing
it’s a
good one,
i go ask myself something stupid like :

“ should i send
  this one to Rattle ? “

“ how about another
  submission
  to Empty Mirror ? “

“ will a chapbook
  be the next step?”

followed by the classic of all questions :

“ what the fuck
  am i
  waiting
  for ? “

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