"There is one problem
with those men who do not write.
They seem to think that we,
the men who write,
get all the juice.
The problem is,
in terms of relationship
we were always on the
losing side.
We, the men who write,
we write our sorrow,
we write our madness,
we write our life,
of living and wandering,
not a grand one,
in style.
We, the men who write,
under the bridge,
in the gloomy and smoky, cheap hotel room,
in the middle of the city, alone.
Never tired.
Because, we know,
that, their (the men who do not write)
women are reading.
And wondering,
why didn't my man write like this."
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