Bitter Muse

Of what use is a joyless muse? What purpose could she serve? Fit for naught but sardonic comedy, too gruesome to harvest laughs, or the chèvre’s ancient tragedy- but what good is that? Is life not acrid and dank enough for muses to bitter be? Is wormwood manuscript a balm for exhausted humanity? Oh where, Olympian maiden, did all your mirth depart? Is mortal life not pained enough we must suffer too in art?