Poem: Stuart Isn't Here

This poem is about a great friend and writer.

Stuart Isn't Here Stuart, your writing makes me jealous You left some on my desk, I didn’t know and only found it, this evening, late when I was tired from my own stuff Too tired to look at more, but there it was Wanting just to eat, pour a glass of wine, a few minutes with a book and then to bed It caught me, made me know the work can be done as well as this and better You’re just starting, Christ, I’m starting too Feeling years behind, your words all float and mine have to swim against a current There’s always another bigger animal further up this food chain we call writing Ain’t life a bitch, that’s what they say The jealousy, the trying to get it down is what makes a sharper edge and so, still doing the work, thanking you for that, But, Jesus, you’re tough to thank Your stuff stays in my head

This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection THE SMELL OF TWEED AND TOBACCO available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats.