Who Will Save Me Now?

The money's gone
so who will save me now
and why am I
unable to save myself
It's a matter of chagrin
this dependence
this needing
somehow to pay the rent
and meaningless as hell
that other writers
more skilled than I
down through decades
begged their way
ahead of me

I've got to get another plan
because the money's gone
and who will save me now
Plans get in the way of words
but the rent comes due
inevitably
and food and cigarettes
are both habitual
Demeaned, I know I live too well
Should be washing dishes
like Orwell
and I'm not
Is it too big a price
the one they paid