This poem is a classic

I had an idea for an art sculpture

Called prayer machines,

Where there would be a mechanical process

to generate prayer requests

For complicated population combinations.

But I didn’t get into art school, 

and years after I had the idea,

My friend sent me a video

Of some other artist

Who created a colorful whirligig

“prayer machine.” Similar to my idea

But without the actual prayer requests.

Without the love and people.

Without the missing art degree.

My poems didn’t get published, either,

after twenty years of depression survival.

It makes life seem meaningless,

but maybe instead of my poems,

teachers can go find

an actual piece of crap

on the sidewalk 

from a homeless person,

and bring it into the classrooms,

and have the students worship it.