Poet

Had I been a man- of my parents' generation I would have joined the Foreign Legion, an honorable choice at least, to turn professional adventurer, intrepid, instead of ne' er do well- black sheep. But, I became a poet instead, ne' er do well still, misunderstood regarded as either head- in- the- clouds dreamer hopeless romantic eccentric damn fool - or fiery lunatic rabble- rouser angst- ridden. And my dedication, my life, is thought of as mere hobby - not something serious definitely not a vocation. And people look at me askance, quizzically, when I'm asked the inevitable, " What do you do?" I answer " poet" proudly weaver of words, I'm "touched" yes, but, - by the Muse.