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Living by Starlight

by Kevin T. McEneaney
Thu Apr 11th, 2019

Real theater does not happen

on the Great White Way,

nor does good poetry appear

in the pages of the New Yorker.


The Arts continue on their way

in the backwoods of wherever

like weeds in the rolling woods

of memory, desire, and even love,


anywhere where failure is an option

that fuels the fire of imagination.

Arts present the marriage of fortune

to the neglected lot, the abandoned house


waiting to be renovated, flipped

over to the ordinary schedule.

The artist moves on like a vagabond,

not knowing where it will all end.