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musebitch Sep 2020
with a hellish mess of originality!

she don’t care, that my own estimation
is droopy, my slip showing, nah, she’s
howling and I’m returning her “favor”

*****, you’re my ruination,appearing
regularly around 3:00am,  with three
or more poems for me to store,  as if
the world awaits my/our awakening,
muse gaslighting, trolling my brain!

she replies:

“they come sad and easy, fed to me
in spaghetti string lines, forkfuls
of stanzas, wicked, which I lace
upon your lips for easy retrieving,
reliving them gloriously here on HP

Of course, if you prefer this woman
can disappear, like a rolling stone,
plenty new aborning poets, lyricists,
crying out for inspiration, satisfaction,
how about an adieu, bye to my how-de-do?”

she got me by my spectacles, knowing I’d
take her haunting just to write a single word,
all my own, even if took ten years long; laughing
at me, saying “you’re not the first to make that deal”

so if you see creations from a,
it ain’t me babe, just another man who sold his everything,
for a passing hallelujah, or worse, even a finale selah...

— The End —