Poetry Is My Muse
poetry is my muse
screaming at the
top of its voice
in the middle of
the night
waking me up
and shaking me
till I roll out of
bed and walk
as if in a drunken
stupor to my computer
which is snoring
away loudly
I yell at it to shut
up as I sit in front
of it and begin to
type anything so
my muse will not
continue to abuse
me and be mean
spirited which I do
not find amusing
my writing is angry
at first and then
softens to a hush
which whispers to
me from the written
screen that my muse
is satiated when
I 'save as is'
and I finally crawl back
to bed and dream
about a peaceful and
obedient muse which
wakes up happy
each morning
September 6, 2016
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