Poet On Tour Poem by Matthew Holloway

It's not exactly like the brochure said
I imagine the sales pitch would have been different
Had it stuck to the tones of reality
A tour of coffee shops, library's and small bars
Nights in cheap hotels, noisy, cold
hour after hour on the road unable to sleep
The money not as glamorous as the dream thought
Must have been some sales pitch made
To place me here now, the travelling show
Another afternoon another performance
Little crowds gather, some just stopping by
To see what is going on most without interest
I read from my books my collection of works
All to pay for the next round of drinks
In the bar that evening where I sit alone
And write more poetry if only to stay sane
Sanity I need to keep a check on that
The phone rings twice a day, my publisher
Checking on my progress and performance
All from his office in the big city
eventually I go to bed, lay on the sheets
Looking up at the ceiling wanting to sleep