Hey you, Muse!
You’ve been lazy.
Hey you, Muse!
I am impoverished with lack of Word
I need some words, some good words. Where is my inspiration, Muse?
I’ll fire you!
Now, that’s not a real threat, dear.
But, please, I implore you, please, start working!
I’m so very impatient.
Hey, Muse!
Get me a camel!
Don’t act so surprised. I heard…
Yes, I heard somewhere…
that
Bedouins acquire a distinct poetic voice from,
Well, yes, from riding camels.
Why, even the illiterate among them sing a poetry.
And dear Muse, believe it or not, they got this inner aesthetic talent
from the motion of the animal, the swaying of the animal, the back and forward, up and downward, side and frontward, movement of the animal. Riding and swaying, swaying and moving, moving and bouncing, bouncing and gliding, gliding and swaying, their breathing is music.
Hey, Muse.
I want a camel.
There’s muh too much sand in this desert and
I can’t make it to water on foot.
This piece originally appeared in Poetry 1969-1972, Writing Folio Number Two, published in 1972.