I offered up my goods to the devil or the gods or the universe

Whatever bigger than everything entity has the power to make such backroom bargains

I said tell you what

Give me 9 to 5 with bennies and a 401k
one thing I can hold onto

And, perhaps, a little something extra for a weekend at the beach 

Anything, I said, anything will do.

smite me to a cubicle life
of gray office damnation

I said you can have whatever you want,

you can have this. These,

all my words, take them

every letter, sound and syllable
yours for the low, low price of one eternity in stability

I said please.

Motherfucker, please.

They're yours all yours, I said
I don’t want them anymore,

pulled my fingers from the keys and waited.

Weighted

the leaves turned orange and gold and brown,

the rains painted their colors across the sidewalk,

and washed them into oblivion

days got shorter and the days got longer and the flowers opened and

fat red tomatoes split guts and seeds onto the garden floor

and nothing
Turns out the devil don't need writers neither