you can’t write if you don’t have a desk

i picture myself in a small office
cluttered like ray bradbury’s
underneath a single light
cigarettes smoking
a girl naked moaning from the bed upset that i’m not there
there’s a fedora somewhere
same sexy woman leaning over me
maybe she’s naked pretending to type trying to inspire me to leave.
there’s works and works and works
of other writers around me
stax of them
and pictures
posters covering the wall
framed memorabilia flashing across the computer screen
trips taken around the world-
it’s midnight
and there’s jazz
or mid day and talk radio
lunch time with rock n roll


it’s an old bedroom
cluttered with garbage and beer bottles
a dog snoring loudly
i’m alone in my pajama’s at 4pm
boiling sausages
radio turning off hockey game
surfing the web for cartoons or…whatever
there’s an annoying sound in my head
telling me the next great word is about to be written
blazay bullshit every writer has said a thousand times before

but it’s friday
it’s almost quitting time.
flip the sausages
turn down the heat and get in bed

oh yeah……

you’re not here

and it’s friday
it’s almost quitting time
-throw on the fedora
and head home to the living room
….turn on the TV

and cut up those sausages


About Crazy Irishman

Touted as a working man's poet, Martin Durkin has been writing professionally for the last 12 years. He has appeared in over twenty anthologies across North America, including, "And left a place to stand on", a collection of poems and essays about the late great Al Purdy. Durkin has also published two collections of poetry, "Hypnotic Childhood", and "The Sound of Quish". Over the past 4 years, Durkin has been on hiatus for the most part but has recently come back to the poetry scene creating a poetry site called, where in the past year he has written over 100 poems and created a cross over page on where he gives a story behind each of the pieces written. View all posts by Crazy Irishman

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