Intoxicated Muse

Wrote it while waiting for the bus. Needs work. But since when does anything I write NOT need work?

Intoxicated Muse
By Karina Young
15 September 2009

My new Muse is a mess
Though I am glad I found her
Her creativity comes in gulps
As she chugs down the recipe for inspiration
This is what she gives me
My Muse is a drunk.
When I try to fill the page before me
It all comes out like vomit on the dance floor
Covering designer shoes
Hundred dollar jeans
My Muse laughs and says
“Shows where their priorities lie”
Speaking of their wastefulness
A woman’s scream fills my ears
The vomit is seeping in
I laugh and my Muse splinters
I’ll see her again
Once I leave this place
She’s everywhere these days
Always waiting for me
With a slur to her speech
So I can’t always tell what she is saying
What she is hiding from me
Next time I try to write
It comes out like an
Intoxicated outburst
My Muse rambling on about how
She slept with your best friend
See how that smashes the page
I’ll have to pull her up and shake her
Demanding a sober response
I don’t get one
She leaves me lost
My slutty, disheveled, intoxicated Muse
A good partnership
Though my pen is aggravated
At what I force him to write
Trash
This doesn’t dampen our friendship
The paper says nothing at all
Till I fill her up to the brim
My Muse
My Intoxicated Muse
Keep singing those songs to me
Through the Karaoke mike right before closing
Keep filling my glass with watered down beer
Because you drank half my glass and couldn’t afford another
Keep eating the stale peanuts left on the table
Then leaving that salty residue in my mouth
When your kiss blows
The cleansing ocean breeze into me.