More from the Muse
I’m gonna pack up
and move on.
This ain’t working for me any more.
I can’t get any sleep with you
banging away like that
and even a Muse needs his rest.
And the bed is always full of paper scraps and pens.
Damn near poked my eye out last night with that pen.
Stop beggin’ baby.
You're like an addict.
Stop crawling. And don’t lick my toes.
You’ll find no inspiration there,
only toe jam.
What’s a matter with you?
You’re on your own now, girl.
© 2008 Birdstory Publications