Muse on Acid

Muse on Acid My muse is on acid and I drank a beer we looked at each other and said what are you doing here the answer was quite simple we both came to write yet in our stupor solemnly contrite apologetic in nature yet without a care words through magic of wisdom floated into the air the muse saw bright colors, hallucinogenic visions danced in her mind and since I was relaxing, a poem started to unwind I appeared as an ink well, and she as a quill and the disasters of writer’s block we started to kill we blended in ways that we never had before but not from the brew, or even the score somehow for the first time, she came alive and looked at poetry through the writer’s keen eyes and I as a poet, flowed through her fine veins we changed the roles, I held the reigns when the visions were penned, words turned to verse the roles again we did reverse and saw that the acid and beer we consumed were remnants of each other left in the room the sweet fermentation that came to my lips was the taste of muse-blood upon which I sipped and the material that caused my muse to psychotically trip is the feeling of the pen, that the poet does grip May 17, 2001 © Copyright 2001 1st Poet Inc. William S. Dawes Written May 17th, 2001 © on Jan 19 2002 07:50 AM PST   0 • 10