“Inspiration doesn’t come just like that, you know,” Richard whined, defensively, “it takes time for me to be ‘inspired.’ Besides , you know that I don’t have a lot of time to write poetry, when my ‘day job' is all about telling jokes.”
Lola looked dubiously at Richard and wondered what she had gotten herself into? She silently tallied Richard’s shortcomings: former chicken rancher, 2nd rate comedian, almost penniless—good looking yes and loved her, yes--- but really, what was she doing with this guy, anyway?
Just then, Richard interrupted Lola’s mental accounting of his flaws, “Hey I think I have an idea for a new poem—a love poem."
Lola reminded herself that she needed to add “would-be poet” to her mental tally of Richard’s most prominent characteristics, but she wondered, ‘Is being a poet one of Richard’s assets, or one of his liabilities?’
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