Allison Brubaker

“once again
I hear of somebody who is going to
settle down and
do their work,
painting or writing or whatever,
as soon as they get a better light
installed,
orassoonastheymovetoanew
city,
or as soon as they come back from the trip they have been planning,
or as soon as . . .
it’s simple: they just don’t want to do it,
or they can’t do it,
otherwise they’d feel a burning itch from hell
they could not ignore and “soon”
would turn quickly into “now.”
― Charles Bukowski, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way: New Poems