Oh muse, hast thou to the bowels of hell flown?
I have no inspiration, no ideas
For poems to write. Leave me not alone
Flow from the fount, the motherlode, the seas
The moment I give thee, quill pen, a squeeze
Let ink duplicate the blue waves of doubt
The squiggles of desire, blots of disease
Let it flow, thin blue lines, within, without
Joined up inking, spell vowel and consonant
Inconstant love, inconsistent froth, foam
Please succour me, I'm sucked down to my knees
In slime, let rip, let rhyme, reason appears
Oh muse of mine, mine my mind, grind and groan
Til I've signed my name, kissed you, and gone home
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