I do a lot of it.
I’ve done a lot of it this morning.
And even this, these words, lack sparkle.
Some days the muse walks the runway.
Some days she plays hide and seek.
Some days she is a truant teenager.
I write anyway.
“Never let ’em see you sweat.” my mother used to say.
That goes for the muse too.
Don’t let the old girl think she’s in charge.
She’ll get ideas. And not the kind you write about.
So let her think you don’t need her.
Be David Niven nonchalant.
Pull out words you haven’t used in a while
just to let her know you can live just fine without her
and she will return,
draping herself over you like a gangster’s moll
as you steal her diamonds.
About this poem
Sometimes I just like to have fun with writing. Particularly when I am utterly lacking in inspiration. I’m not sure what that says about me.
The image is stock photography. Not mine. Totally legal. Because stuff like that matters.