I write... therefore I am

High-schools and universities,
friends and classes and reputations,
gentle lovers,
beautiful lovers,
abusive, deceitful lovers,
drug highs and drug lows,
almost nazi-style jails
and gentle and providential
if crowded and anarchic psych wards,
engrossed hours and days:
history and science in diverse libraries,
drunken walks through quiet parks,
trips to strip bars,
trips through earthly hells...
and occasional bizzare earthly heavens
so remarkable as barely to be believed

Through all of it,
especially lately,
I was a poor man
of only adequate means
(partly because the dollar has
to me been nothing but a means;
I dreamed larger dreams)

My books are in the world:
silicon and "real,"
they are my achievements
(the humanities are stronger
than robotics and steel.)

Through it all I wrote:
laboring and thinking;
you'll find secrets and diamonds
in the hard-bought inking.
Amid the trash,
you'll find things
more valuable than cash

I write,
therefore I am.
I write...
there I am