DAVID CRAVENS

To Have and Have Not

slept in my car again
in a Kirkwood parking lot
pissing in a tea bottle
(only thing with a lid)

& slaved today in the sun
at Emily Pulitzer's
(ten bucks an hour)
mowed past a glassed room
containing a Picasso
(a Warhol next to it)

a lovely disparity
(as I near fifty)
emphasizing my failure
as a writer

but I heard this morning
that Anthony Bourdain
hanged himself—
leaving behind a child
career and wealth and fame
& a few best sellers

so this evening after work
I’ll bathe in the Meramec
& be grateful
for it and the sun above
crack open a bottle of Jack—
drink to what I have

 

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