En la Vie Boheme

Gladly,
I'd shed everything i own that beepith, blinkith, or shine,
I'd loose myself of stylish threads and fancy skins
without remorse,
I would reduce my palate to rice and ramen
but with only a passing sadness
would i lose touch with every one I know,
casting the shadow of social silence over my head live a widowers veil
I might even cast aside books, articles and journals
keeping only with me pens and scraps of paper, the blanket from my childhood
and the guitar my grandfather carved,
perhaps a candle by which to wax poetic.

I'd submit to pains and humiliations
irritations
deaths maybe even rebirths.
I'd suffer smiling.
I'd suffer bold smiles.
I'd suffer myself.
I'd do all this and far more
than macabre could conjure,
and in return,
for these maladies and losses,
I'd only want the knowledge that
I have a place to sleep tonight.
That failure hasn't hung me yet.