Prick First, Saint Second

If you want to be a great artist
you’ve got to be
a prick first
and a saint second.

You must be willing
to gamble
it all for your art:
your kids,
your wife,
your security.

If the dice fall right,
and you pull
the fourth ace,
you'll be rewarded
with the fame
the adulation
the money
the lovers
each offering themselves up
as blank checks waiting for
your endorsement.

When you've reached
your limit,
and when even
your own excesses
repulse you,

then you'll have
The Epiphany,
and you will
renounce it all
for the simple life:

you'll have
that second family,
where you will become
the devoted father,
the unabashed and
unapologetic husband,

and with your
newly proclaimed
inner peace,

you will denounce
all those things
that the prick loved-
the trappings of this world -
that now seem so petty
so temporal,
so vulgar,

but you will still have
your exciting memories
and a sizable nest egg
in the bank.

If I were smart
I would have been
a prick first,
and a saint second,
because
if I try to be
a great artist now,
I’d just end up
looking like
a prick.

[Posted for  #OpenLinkNight at www.dversepoets.com- a little bit of heaven right at your fingertips!]