Success Story by John Patrick Robbins

I collect rejections as others may collect knick-knacks to merely collect dust upon a shelf .
I have spent years sending out work I could paper my walls with them.

There from every top magazine you as a so called writer have never heard of it’s okay in this line writing the names are many and the respect is meager at best .

I found publication slowly then found more and more .
Eventually I somehow got over a hundred writes in little mag’s and e-zine’s all over to places I would never see  but I would damn sure be read  .

Slowly these works found a audience .

I learned my craft paying for my efforts in blood and mental  breakdowns along the way .

The man who’s ego once soared as high as a eagle does  no longer  exist .

Now a sarcastic bitter old shit holds court at the bar.
Listens to conversations and forgets most so I simply make shit up throw it against the wall and see what sticks .

I did a interview not so long ago it was for a small press .
The questions were stupid .
My answers were far worse .

“What’s your favorite hobby” ?

“Drinking “.

“What’s your favorite food “?

“Does Alcohol count”?

“What’s your advice to young writers “?

“Stop before you hurt yourself “.

“How do you handle rejection “?

“With a firm grip and a passionate kiss”

“Bukowski or Shakespeare”?

“I think there both good names but I’m happy with my own”.

The mag never asked me to do a interview again .
But they ran it anyways I was surprised to say the least .

I was broke but well read I was a true success story minus all the shit that goes along with it like money and fame .

Or women whom didn’t truly care who you were as long as you paid the tab.

Yeah my life was total shit but who needs money or loose women ?
I had a interview in a magazine nobody would read .

I applied for a job to buy silly things like food and whiskey .

The guy looked at the application then looked at me .

“Are you really a published writer “?

“Yes “.

“There any money in that “?

I didn’t even crack a smile in my reply .

“Shit tons that’s why I’m filling out this application to work for minimum wage “.

“Your a real smartass you know that “?

“Well honestly if I was smart I wouldn’t be a writer “.

“If you were smart you would have went to college that’s what I did “.

“And now you are the manager of a McDonalds I didn’t know that required a college degree “.

He didn’t say much after that just told me they would look over my application and said goodbye .

I believe  I wouldn’t be getting the job .

But with enough money left in my wallet left for a cheap fifth I would be getting drunk later that evening .

Success is a elusive little creature indeed .


©2018 John Patrick Robbins


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John Patrick Robbins is often referred to as an outlaw poet, whose work is a glimpse into life’s darker side and often barroom based. His work has been published with Inbetween Hangover, The Red Fez, Spill The Words, Ramingos Porch, Your One Phone Call, The Outlaw Poetry Network, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Poets Community, And also read online at hello poetry. His work is always a hundred percent unfiltered.


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