Nobody appreciates a late call from the boss.

*****

Recorded Reading (2:04): https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/758mo8cz06vb6woq5hgej/To-the-Muse.mp3?rlkey=h9p8xrn4w8wlz5trpqrazy04l&st=u85t4c9k&dl=0

*****

To the Muse, Of a Refreshingly Peaceful Evening

Well, here she is! We had not thought
Tonight to see you, dear:
We’ve heard no recent rumors of
The sort of vile intensity
You seem to absolutely love
And, seeming sad, irrev’cably
Ever in midst embroil us of…

Hath there been aught we haven’t heard?
The rumor mill grinding so slow
That we your presence see before
Its reason come to know?

Is there some pestilence around
Of which you ought us to inform?
In some way hath our universe
Failed in its mission to perform
Up to exacting standards
Only a poet’s Muse would give
Forth on a planet upon which
One still has to eat to live?

Some unresolved detail the source
Hov’ring dissatisfaction of?
Tired of having company,
Received a little too much love?
But rather not be left alone
In solo contemplation of
The wonders of the universe,
Growing disenamored of?

I can’t imagine for a single
Instant it could be
That you have gotten all dressed up
Just to have tea and toast with me
And comment on the weather, I think
On that much we might agree
A lady would alleviate
My growing — grown — anxiety

At having thus the unexpected
Pleasure of her presence here —
Might there not be some alternate
Appointment you have in arear?
In which case you may feel most free
To repropell exped’iently
Your doubtless samite cladded rear,
Exquisitely, back out of here…

*****

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