my muse is a jailbreaker
Posted: April 24th, 2015, 8:30 am
the light air of floating on a streak...
words are buoyant in my head, they
lift my feet from the ground and I hover
like a badly painted balloon
poems spill from pinholes no different
than exhaling used up oxygen,
rarefied air with a mouthful of gnashing teeth,
but even mongrel existence can lose its bite
and when it does the mind is set free
into romping slow motion, I see
a woman running through a meadow
in her maidenform bra...wildflowers
tickling her thighs, then the channel changes
I see a giddy brain with legs running
in the sunshine of my love, cream oozing
like cum from neurotransmitters
am i dreaming, i'm now in whitewater
rafting with the mighty words of tomorrow
through slender norwegian streams
beyond the frozen fjords , I hear dostoevesky
whispering in my ear and he says to me, who know steve
a great deal of your writing is about, well
writing....it's a common theme with you, are you
turning into a one trick pony ?
no I say, my muse is a jailbreaker
she saves me from the dastardly villain
with the greasy mustache every single time
at the very last second of the last act
she pulls off the iron bars with a rope
tied to her winged horse, and I am Free
for a moment to wander off into the outer regions of inner soul
until once again I am lassoed , run in like a filthy vagrant
but I never fear the confines of a 4 x 8 cell
nor any of the idiots with the keys
I spend my time doing crossword puzzles
it's just a matter of time
my muse is a jailbreaker
words are buoyant in my head, they
lift my feet from the ground and I hover
like a badly painted balloon
poems spill from pinholes no different
than exhaling used up oxygen,
rarefied air with a mouthful of gnashing teeth,
but even mongrel existence can lose its bite
and when it does the mind is set free
into romping slow motion, I see
a woman running through a meadow
in her maidenform bra...wildflowers
tickling her thighs, then the channel changes
I see a giddy brain with legs running
in the sunshine of my love, cream oozing
like cum from neurotransmitters
am i dreaming, i'm now in whitewater
rafting with the mighty words of tomorrow
through slender norwegian streams
beyond the frozen fjords , I hear dostoevesky
whispering in my ear and he says to me, who know steve
a great deal of your writing is about, well
writing....it's a common theme with you, are you
turning into a one trick pony ?
no I say, my muse is a jailbreaker
she saves me from the dastardly villain
with the greasy mustache every single time
at the very last second of the last act
she pulls off the iron bars with a rope
tied to her winged horse, and I am Free
for a moment to wander off into the outer regions of inner soul
until once again I am lassoed , run in like a filthy vagrant
but I never fear the confines of a 4 x 8 cell
nor any of the idiots with the keys
I spend my time doing crossword puzzles
it's just a matter of time
my muse is a jailbreaker
