Poets Earning a Living?

So, an interesting article by Eavan Boland, and brought up in a Harriet post by Don Share, about the idea of the “poet at work.” Here’s the quote that Don posts (though the whole article is pretty interesting:)

“Whether we like it or not, the contemporary poet is increasingly skill-based. Or expected to be. He or she can — or should — lecture, lead a workshop, run an introductory class, teach composition, write a review, give a conference paper. In pursuit of all this, they are also expected to travel neatly, punctually, and soberly…. I want to be clear here. These are not negligible skills for the poet in the world. I certainly wanted to acquire them when I was young. All of  them seemed to me a way of  talking about or living with poetry. They still do. And I still believe many if not most poets engage them for exactly that reason.Nevertheless, I’m nagged at by the thought that many of the poets I admired when I was young were not skill-based. The opposite in fact. To think of Patrick Kavanagh or Charlotte Mew leading workshops or flying to a strange city to give a reading is to stumble straight into anomaly.And yet skills are an integral part of the poet’s world — and prospects — today…”

I think of the poets I know who are successful in the world of academia. They all dazzle with that set of skills Boland speaks of – socially gracious, doggedly grading papers and guiding students, devotedly travelling from reading venue to venue, without ever seeming to blink or wrinkle a skirt (or perhaps they do wrinkle, but I didn’t notice.) Those same people would probably be highly promotable in a corporation – perhaps as communications managers, in PR, or marketing. The kind of person that shines at AWP would be the same person who shines at any kind of business conference, but with more English degrees. I don’t know that those skills have anything to do with the ability to write great poetry; in fact, they probably don’t. But they surely don’t exclude people from writing great poetry; I’ve heard great poetry from both personable efficient type A’s and drug-addicted, misanthropic loners, from warm huggable folks and people you would hate to be stuck at a table with. But those skills are a bonus, even a necessity, for an academic job-hunter.
Of course, academia is not the only place a poet can earn a living – look at Charles Jensen, working for the non-profit out in Arizona, or Peter Pereira, serving the community as a doctor. Diane Wakoski claims that before she entered academia, she earned a living by sending out letters to venues that might pay her to read her work, and she travelled two days out of every three for years. She must have been tough, healthy, and a heck of a reader.

As I think about the big “what to do next” question, I wonder how to put my particular set of skills, likes and dislikes, abilities, and degrees to work. I know working 90 hours a week as a manager at a Microsoft or AT&T again would probably make writing poetry impossible. But how about working 40 as a technical editor, or copywriter? I’m going over to Cascadia Community College this week to give a little reading and teach a class as a guest. I like doing this kind of thing, just like the youth arts teaching stuff. I like teaching, I think I might even be good at it. I have good people skills, and I’m pretty enthusiastic about the subject matter. But even the process of applying for teaching jobs at universities is daunting to me, though – so much bureaucracy. If you don’t like bureaucracy, should you enter academia?
Of course, it’s too late for me to be born into money…and I missed out on late nineties stock speculation – Maybe I could acquire a friendly sponsor?
So again, I come to the question of: how do you earn a living as a poet? Is it possible? Is it even something we should try to do? Should we instead starve nobly in attics? There is very little “write poetry for money” kind of work out there. Grants and prizes make, perhaps, an extended writing vacation at a residency possible, take the worry out of postage and contest fees, but even the big ones (like the NEA) wouldn’t give you enough funds to survive a year in most cities of size.
So, our work as a poet becomes: anything that makes money, besides writing poetry. Possibilities: Teaching. Writing journalistic articles for magazines, sites and newsletters. Writing and editing technical or marketing material for a corporation or consulting group. Building web sites, or engines, or any job that lets you have enough time to write. I know writers who wait tables, and serve coffee, so that they can keep their brains free for writing. Which is the best option for you, dear poet? Which is the best option for me?