the runner-up

You gave your best and it was not good enough
Yet you tried again, and tried hard

Facing rejection with no rejoice
You stand up once more

Atlas had it no easier
Like him you carry a World

A World that is all yours
And you hear the laughter from the top

You fail and you fall,
Blind with no cane, frail,

Pluck the schmuck, slam dunk him into the trashcan,
Yes; thrashed, slashed, crushed, slowly becoming

Detritus, debris; no word games but
Rubbish, Bullshit and stinking Manure; crap

The second Buzz Aldrin of this one and only Life,
Always in second place; the nominee, the runner-up

That's me


peter hsu (Los Angeles, CA, 1971)

no fame, no glory (let alone the money and the girls)

i got into this business looking not for fame but for glory
which are often confused but they should be not
by "this business" i mean poetry, of course
what, you thought this was art?

ha
ha
ha

unfortunately for me i did not get glory nor fame
let alone the money and the girls
which i thought were the perks of being
a celebrated author

i got none of that
and that's ok
i'm still in the business
alive and well

not living in dublin
but right here in frisco
where i smell the breeze of the pacific ocean
and that's my daily pulitzer prize

if i also had you
then i would become so happy
i could afford abandon this business
there would be no need for poetry if i had you


peter hsu (Los Angeles, CA, 1971)