When the Muse hits you like a hundred pound sack
Mar. 12, 2002 ] 7:57 PM
These hands have to curve
These fingers to contort
In the need to set pen to paper
Etching word by painstaking word.

Negating abrasions, lesions, sores
Evading cunning traps of pain
Is the need to follow the Muse's dictate
Etching word by painstaking word.


Yes, I know the title is irrepressible, but that's the mood that I am in now. And this is my first attempt for the poet-collab project. Not a good attempt, but it was all I could think up.

wax ] wane
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