I know -- these days, Muse poems are totally cliche

I'm sick and tired of the so-called muses, especially the one who always chooses to make it clear that I don't work hard enough, yet, when I ask for a little help with my stuff, she's always the first one who flatly refuses. My muse yelled, "Stop! That's prohibited." I said, "What?" "The behavior you just exhibited." I said, "What did I do?" She said, "You took some lines that didn't belong to you." I said, "Jeez! Instead of helping me, you're making me feel totally inhibited." Someone asked, "Could you write without a muse?" I said, "Probably could, but I'd refuse. Why? Because a muse is so good at showing what to tell the audience and what to keep it from knowing so that you can keep right on going with your wild-ass ruse." I was having a hell of a time with a poem that shouldn’t ever have been mine. The muse had made a big mistake by giving me lines that shoulda gone to this poet named Blake, of which I could make neither reason nor rhyme.