There’s a photo of me
During college
With long hair pulled back
Near the TV
Besides its screen
Glowing footage
Of an interview
Showing his face –

The man whose work
Who’d inspire
And lead my fate
Towards creating
As this soul would pine
For attention
Tarantino himself
Did receive.

My cousin took pics
While I watched him,

Devotedly fixed
On each sentence

That director had spilled
When describing
Another dream
Far from my reach.

Perhaps I might
Finish one movie,

Or complete each scene
Growing dormant,

Inside my mind
Raging poems

Still better said now
Than those scripts.

Time passed too fast
For escaping
These talentless words
Begging readers,

Quicker than age
Could determine
And neuter them soon
Feeling numb.

Some losers
Just never get famous,

Seeing each film
Seeking stardom

But instead
Just languish from waiting
Being lazy
Until they can’t write.

• J. Pigno