groovin' on a sunday afternoon

doing not much but reading while anna and nicholas spend the afternoon at a friend's child's birthday party

i find myself reading a couple of self-defeatist interviews by poets who shall remain nameless because i like their work mostly

their attitudes, or how i read their attitudes, revolve around:

no one reads this stuff anyway so why bother

and both of these writers have published their books with trade houses and have tenured gigs to boot

that sort of shit depresses me

cuz why bother indeed if you don't love doing it whether there is a mass audience or no

reminds me a little of a new yorker cartoon where the boss ushers a subordinate into his office and says:

frankly roger, you've managed to self-deprecate yrself right out of a job