How Not to Create

I pray my next life leaves me with enough knowledge of my own ignorance to help more than I harm

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I admit that I’m morbidly curious
about living my next life as a
haughty creative scholar
who has created nothing of note
while ceaselessly sharing smug soliloquies
on how not to create, replete with
expensive scholarly certifications on
the humanities, Shakespeare, Poe,
and likeminded one-named literary giants

– and if you don’t know these names,
how dare you even deem to create,
you illiterate Philistine?

– with said certifications certified
by master creative scholars, themselves
somehow acquiring wealth from
creating nothing of note,

but from excessively expensive,
incessant lectures on how not to create,
leaving many a layman who ever hoped
to tell their stories adrift, rudderless,
sorely lacking confidence
to begin telling it