Poetry Is My Muse

poetry is my muse screaming at the top of its voice in the middle of the night waking me up and shaking me till I roll out of bed and walk as if in a drunken stupor to my computer which is snoring away loudly I yell at it to shut up as I sit in front of it and begin to type anything so my muse will not continue to abuse me and be mean spirited which I do not find amusing my writing is angry at first and then softens to a hush which whispers to me from the written screen that my muse is satiated when I 'save as is' and I finally crawl back to bed and dream about a peaceful and obedient muse which wakes up happy each morning September 6, 2016