My friend the author-with-an-agent said I should write
That the excerpt I read over coffee was beautiful
Of course I did my thing where I changed the subject
and said irreverent nonsense pointing needles elsewhere

My friend later brought it up again calling me out for
intentionally changing the station mid-song
Why? Continued unfazed by my sleight
From their perspective this made no sense at all

I said something about allies and patronage
And how my ultimate goal in art has always been to
reach what I can now call Audience Zero
where I can produce in purity and in peace

I discovered long ago that the jones
was driven by the processes and not by the outcomes
I learn as much from conceiving as I do from constructing
All work became complete in my head first

When finally nobody listens and nobody cares
When the voices within are the unedited broadcast production
I will know that I have followed my perfect instinct
I will know that I have spent a lifetime becoming a ghost