Æ am a real kunst of a hard luck lady.
Slicing your meat whilst always
Cutting my teeth,
Making ends meet as Æ please,
Because Æ played squirrel and not grasshopper.
Enabling me to play in the spring.
Struggling is part and parcel to most artists.
A choice choosen.
Not an old work horse called a salaried slave but a prime cut slice of an hourly wage.
You wilt pay me overtime after forty hours.
And, I shall not work sixty for a base salary.
My economy demands.
A bull versus a bear.
Your need is inelastic whilst mine is elastic.
Long ago did Æ graduate from walking on eggshells and begin walking on broken glass.
I ain’t happy; but better yet, I’m feeling glad.