We Are All Famous, Yes Poem by Patti Masterman

We are all famous; yes:
To that familiar pen, and that worn notebook
To the hidden scraps of paper, behind the picture frame
To those secret yearnings at midnight
Behind the ornamental bush; alone in our solitary confinement
And yes, to that same image staring back from the mirror
And to that Shakespearean shirt we still wish we owned
And to the mad clamor of the raving world
For only our words; our symbolic strivings,
Our one lonely hand, reaching out bravely to grasp
But a single impoverished meaning
Out of the whole of possibility
Amid the world's tintinnabulations
And genuflections:
Yes, we have been, and are, and will be
Famous, in our more certain solitude.