Muse! MUSE!Muse! MUSE! Where are you? My thoughts are all awry, scattered in the bombsite basement of my brain: bits of love and nature, odd refrains, and here and there the fearful straining urge to verse...as though it mattered! Muse! MUSE! Where are you? My trust in you is gone, shattered like the trodden sonnets in my heart: threnodies of nonsense, missing parts, and now I find my rhyme is starting to decay...as though it mattered! Muse! MUSE! Where are you? My artistry is dead, splattered on the mildewed canvas of my soul: imageless and threadbare, full of holes, and in a black despair I'm calling for your sigh...as though it mattered! Muse! MUSE! Where are you? Your voice, still ever with me, flattered me such soothing rhythms, instilled my mind such endless rhymes of sleep, as waking finds you now: my brain, my heart, my soul—such blinding trinity...as though it ever mattered! |
Gay Noses (and other queer appendages)
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Ink Amera |
(C) David 1/9/2007 |
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