My Muses

I used to scoff at the thought of Greek nymphs inspiring artists, but those nine gals, especially Calliope and Erato blees em, have moved right in. They’re a great help around the house. I have put them to work cleaning, tidying, and doing the dishes. I.C.E. raided my house the other day wanting to know if I employed illegal aliens. The girls, forewarned, hid themselves in a closet. Small problem, while I sleep they fill my head with fanciful gibberish, lame stuff which, the next day, I then have to dump somewhere and the city flatly refuses to take them away with the trash.