I'll Play in the Band

I should have written you by now
To shatter this earth
To shake its bushes
I should be immovable
On the coveted throne
Of literary immortality;
I should be sought out,
Consulted and paged
My words sniffed and sipped
Like wine well-aged
I should be given
Golden keys to cities,
Should be stepping
On red carpets unrolled;
But no, here I am
And you are dwelling elsewhere—
Still, I've my hopes
That my pen and hand
Will create and record you;
Then I’ll play in the band.