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.
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