Poet's feats

A poet multiplies his worries
and they crawl about
like severed heads
searching for their bodies.
In a quandary all the while
he carries with him
something closer to nonsense.
He mixes unholy thoughts
in holier than thou places.
Asks questions obliquely
and sighs are the most common replies.
Poetry for him is a side job.
Never has his work quenched
the pangs of hunger.
Almost a callous attitude he displays
about all the goings on.
And carries on the work
as if nobody is looking.
There are audience sometimes
in really uncomfortable seats
to watch all his horrible feats.