if i cant write
creatives worthless pious penniless
ungiving and wrenched dry
talked of and never gotten
eureka a fictional sound
revelation a fantasy cut short
with a start
intuition is ten bankers
on their balconies
watching the setting sun
while migrant workers grovel
in the streets below
And creativity is a man
running up a hill
with buckets of water
spilling every drop
before he reaches the summit