Wherein The Muse’s ‘Vehicle’ Goes in the Shop For Repairs

 

****

The muse won’t tell a LIE….

the truth is, she must lie STILL,

teetering on the edge

of tomorrow’s forest

 

OK,

I made that up,

there is no forest,

(a jungle maybe)

the truth is, she must lie still

on the edge of a surgeon’s table.

 

All right,

I made that up too,

 she won’t be on the edge

of the table –

NO,

more like stage center,

at the head of the class,

letting all the young doctors

watch the surgeon

making tracks on her belly,

OK

another fabrication…

not tracks – incisions,

the surgeon will cut her

while her muse, pale and mute

wallows in drug dreams

leaving her body, her vehicle

in a complex heap,

a mess,

while they peer into whatever

openings the surgeon makes,

 getting all the answers for their files.

Once it is over,

she won’t LIE AROUND

she’ll be up and about,

revving the motor,

cruising the hallways,

LYING in wait

 for her belly to rumble back to life…

that rumble is the ‘get out of jail free‘ card

 the ticket out of the repair shop

 with a full tank of gas,

and that’s NO LIE !

 

****

©2013 Wabi Sabi

 

For The Sunday Whirl where the words for this week are -tracks, edge, files, lie, mess, complex, gas, forest, still, pale, answers, class.

For Poets United ‘poetry pantry’

 

I know this is a crazy, silly poem but it kept me busy as I prepare for surgery on Monday.  I do apologize for forcing the words to suit my agenda and especially for the ending. (Really!? Gas!?)

I will be off the poetry circuit for a few days but plan to return as soon as the drugs wear off and the muse sobers up!

 

If you would like to read another poem I wrote about my  ‘vehicle,’  here’s a link  to ‘Joy Ride.’

Until we meet again, peace!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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