Wish Me Luck

My name isn’t Chris Truman but I am Chris Truman
A character I created in college and wrote a lot about
To pass the time and make my professors think
I’m a real genius

Chris Truman is me poorly disguised
On purpose for dramatic effect
To poke fun at myself and my depression

For legal reasons I can’t share my name
Because I’m submitting this poem along with three others
To a contest run by a famous magazine called Rattle
And on their website under Submission Guidelines
The editors say to keep things fair
Don’t put your name on your poems

They can’t know my name until they choose this poem
Or one of the other three for the grand prize
Which I know they will because I’m a real genius

I’m getting ahead of myself
They haven’t read a word of this yet
It’s self-indulgent I know but I’m depressed
I need to focus more on myself

Rattle rejected me twice already this year
OK they didn’t reject me they rejected my art
And I’m worried about failing
To impress them again

Jean-Paul Sartre the famous writer said
In the end the loser wins which I believe does happen
For example when poets like me destined to fail at life
Use their pain and frustration to make beautiful art
They win people’s hearts and minds
And sometimes awards

In 1964 Jean-Paul Sartre won the Nobel Prize in Literature
But he declined the award for reasons I don’t understand
And somebody called him a loser

Chris Truman never won anything in fact
One time he submitted four poems intended for a contest
Into the Regular Submissions category
And the editors laughed so hard
The earth shook and he died
Alone like Jean-Paul Sartre