My Poetic Muse She's Not

As I sat down with my pen A western poem to begin, I remembered my cowboy hat Was in my chair when I sat. So, I was thinkin’ “What an ass To have let such come to pass!” Cause now my fair cowboy muse Was shunned away and on the loose. Then dear wife reminded me That either end, for her, seemed to be The source of stuff about the same, A substance worthy of mostly shame. The hat would work at either end, Without either, the muse can fend.