My Muse

Drives a Chrysler barefoot…

And has three kids with a man

Stronger than me.

You know, she likes my poetry.

She said so so once.

When she called, I remembered every word.

I cracked them open looking for anything.

Then I used them to make jokes about myself… my only immunity against one-sided love.

My Muse

let me kiss her once.

My friends said I should have tried for more....But No...

That’s not where the good poems are.

They come from

Not

Getting What you wanted.

My Muse

drives a Chrysler barefoot,

And wears her hair long

even on the days

When the winds come shrieking over the lake.