I Said to Poetry

November 3, 2006

The Muse

Elly Simmons

the-muse-elly-simmons.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I said to
Poetry:”I’m finished
with you.”
Having to almost die
before some weird light
comes creeping through
is no fun.
“No thank you,
Creation,
no muse need apply.
I’m out for good times–
at the very least,
some painless
convention.”
Poetry laid back
and played dead
until this morning.
I wasn’t sad or
anything,
only restless.
Poetry said: “You
remember
the desert, and how glad
you were
that you have an eye
to see it with? You
remember
that, if ever so
slightly?”
I said: “I didn’t
hear that. Besides, it’s five o’clock in the a.m.
I’m not getting up
in the dark to talk to
you.”
Poetry said: “But
think about the time
you saw the moon
over that small canyon
that you liked so much
better
than the grand one–and
how suprised you were
that the moonlight was
green
and you still had
one good eye
to see it with
Think of that!”
“I’ll join the
church!” I said,
huffily, turning my face
to the wall.
“I’ll learn how to
pray again!”
“Let me ask
you,” said Poetry.
“When you pray,
what do you think
you’ll see?”
Poetry had me.

“There’s no paper

in this room,” I
said.
“And that new pen I
bought
makes a funny
noise.”
“Bullshit,”
said Poetry.
“Bullshit,”
said I.

Alice Walker

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2 Responses to “I Said to Poetry”

  1. qazse said

    great post as always

  2. kimtelas said

    I am glad you enjoyed and that Alice and Elly had something to offer you.

    Thanks qasze,

    Kim

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