Afterword Poem by Andrew Chen

For those things we can't have,
Abstract concepts of love and death,
We always have poems about loving and dying,
spirit, nature, and all the other stuff.
I wonder how much a writer really knows—
Beating bibles like reference books,
Staring out windows for inspiration,
Staring still longer at computer screens,
We write to outlive ourselves.

Some mornings I find I haven't slept
And with coffee-stewed words
I scorn the page and mock each line and letter
Then! Off to bed, as mediocrity brings
the scornful, unending defeat.
Resigned, we lie down and go to rest.