We’re not in the same boat
But don’t worry
Mine is sinking faster

I may look snobbish to you
High-educated, higher in values
And we’re not in the same boat, it’s true
But you don’t have to get upset
Mine is downing deeper, I bet

You know, I hear drunks every night
And I don’t judge them
But I won’t join them either

I hear those French clichés
On white southern America
As the barmaid loudly plays
Some redneck blues singer…

I hear them frogs laughing at the kettle of culture
That’s been cooking them since Marshall plan
Yet still unable to line up a decent phrase in English

Oh boy, must I look snobbish…

Some musician fella told me sooner
How we were the last units of our species…
He asked me if I intended to write a novel,
Which came out of the blue :
« You’re still young for a writer’s career… »
I agreed, only hoping it didn’t mean I was too old
For any proper job

We’re not in the same boat however
And I still don’t reflect that much on my aging days
On my chances to become a well-known author along the way
It is such a daily struggle just to keep afloat
That is why I’m telling you :
This is not your boat
And I mostly don’t welcome any captain
Nor any passenger on board
That’s a solitude not many could afford.

(Painting : Egon Schiele « Trieste fishing boat »)