i know a film, reuben, reuben [1983], about a soused scottish poet played by tom conti, who hadn't written a word in years and when his estranged wife, who was given a large advance to write a memoir about their lives together, challenges the poet on his lack of poetic production the scots shrugs, then she reminds him that his great ambition was to be a conductor with a mad wink and a lock of unruly hair dangled over his eyes but couldn't manage the back-breaking work it required to attain the podium so instead, the lazy ass, turned to poetry with its long history of drunken bums and i think to call her summation of the ancient art of wordslinging bullshit not out of professional concern but because of what elizabeth bishop called the art of losing hence poetry is a loser's art and to keep that up for a lifetime takes an enormous amount of stamina and work