Muse

Imagine my dark anger at night . .
Through my ear she goes, through our metaphor of life.
Come sweet obsessive masterpiece.
Grander king! She sings many songs.
Finds sleepwalking fun, fasts, starts to hurt,
Writing breaks best solution through night
Worry pain, afraid of self,
Has a better laugh,
She does see that last free canvas . .
It's why she comes.

1/7/07 with Joy Voelker, 73, 74, 74-2, 75

  The Muse Poems:

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10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27

28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36

37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45

46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54

55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63

64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72

73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81