The other day in a bar
a young man threw down,
called me out, and Said,
"How do you
become a poet,
oldtimer?"
I sat my bourbon down,
looked him dead in the eye,
thought I might fling
an impossible koan
to take him out,
but instead I answered.
"Listen close and I'll tell you true.
It's all in the Muse, kid.
Not a muse; The Muse.
The only Muse for you.
And you'd better start looking now
because it can take your whole life."
I finished my drink.
"Next time," I said," ask me why
the bridge flows, but the water
is motionless."
He sat stunned,
philosophically
out-gunned.
I sat my empty glass down
and slowly walked away.
Another notch on the handle
of my Karma pistol.
No matter how good you are,
they just keep coming.
~mce
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
The other day in a bar
a young man threw down,
called me out, and Said,
"How do you
become a poet,
oldtimer?"
I sat my bourbon down,
looked him dead in the eye,
thought I might fling
an impossible koan
to take him out,
but instead I answered.
"Listen close and I'll tell you true.
It's all in the Muse, kid.
Not a muse; The Muse.
The only Muse for you.
And you'd better start looking now
because it can take your whole life."
I finished my drink.
"Next time," I said," ask me why
the bridge flows, but the water
is motionless."
He sat stunned,
philosophically
out-gunned.
I sat my empty glass down
and slowly walked away.
Another notch on the handle
of my Karma pistol.
No matter how good you are,
they just keep coming.
~mce
