Monday, October 27, 2008
Your Muse Vs. My Muse
Your muse is a phreak of the streets.
Your muse broke Planned Parenthood's budget.
Your muse hangs at the Tuesday freebie v.d. clinic.
When they offer your muse free condoms there,
she swipes the whole counter into her pocketbook.
So ghetto.
My Muse is more chaste than thine.
My Muse does not have a "cauliflower pussy."
Your muse's pussy looks like a Halloween mask.
My Muse is not photographed for medical textbooks to give students nightmares.
Don't even mention My Muse in the same sentence with your muse.
Yuck.
Your muse gives Helicon a bad name.
Mnemosyne should have used the hairbrush on your muse's ass more.
Take your hootchie muse and vamoose.
I am spraying the rooms your muse passed through with Renuzit now.
So the rooms smell like lavendar and not "hootchie muse."
Fuck off with your muse-cow!
Hera chased that trash Io across the Bosporus for a reason!
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2 comments:
my muse is perverse...
PERVERSE VALENTINE
A cold fall mind
with a warm room in it
if you stand still
everything hears you melting
the mockingbird returns
mixing retro-sixties tunes
you’ve forgotten how to dance to
or you haven’t forgotten how to dance to
wasn’t dancing done with
when we stopped getting laid
wasn’t sex the first grade of courage
after learning to live with love
after being deserted and deceived
or just plain missing the boat?
Peter, I know! I knoze!
I like your poem.
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