Trixie Wants To Write Poetry

meet my muse Trixie. I want to draw. she wants to play in the Thesaurus. Trixie is a freebooter, marauder, pirate, she plans to win. I sketch a monkey, elephant and acrobat. I am in circus mode. Trixie slams her green eyes over the big book. she is persnickety, determined, and forceful. fat blue Thesaurus is a harpy; she flips open. I stare at these words - deaden, anesthetized, stupefy. write them down! Trixie demands. she is more trouble than a gewgaw, trinket or knickknack. I avert my eyes, not wanting to play with words now drawing a circus tent, and a popcorn box. red and white striped popcorn box has arms and legs. he sticks out his tongue in maniacal cartoon laughter. Trixie flips some pages of this dreaded book. gleaming, sparkling, glistening stand out. magnify, enlarge and amplify bite me on the left arm. I am not writing right now! I tell her. she sticks out her tongue. eager to work on a magnum opus, creative masterpiece. I can hardly work on the giraffe. curious I am to read words where she is pointing lionize, glorify, elevate vanish, disappear, dissolve I begin drawing a lion, trying to break my muse's spell.