A Plea to the Powers That Be
Medium, dear Medium,
Must I start a Pattryum?
I have a blog for fear you’ll change
Your algorithms’ payment range;
You made the platform; it’s your right.
My poems and I would rest at night
A little better if we knew
That change was over, finished, through.
I’d like my poems to earn; it’s not
Much money — fifty cents a shot!
And even if I catch up now,
Your wandering tech may soon allow
Another change, frustrations rife;
I’d like to trust my work and life.
My email list is growing slow,
I need to monetize, you know;
But ‘poetry is writ for love’
(A pious glance to skies above)
‘You can’t make money with your verse —
You don’t expect they’d reimburse!’
Well, bless my heart, I’d dared expect;
A little cash shows some respect
For effort made, for poems enjoyed,
And now I’m simply unemployed.
For love I’ve done a lot — that’s sweet,
But Medium, I’d like to eat!