No muse, no use or On Mediocrity
my commentary on poetary.
A rhyming poem I write against my contemporary pretensions. Critics, come and bite to pieces my good intentions.
I try, for they tell me I must, to immortalize the earthy dust, poverty, homeless children, human emotion. Hell, write about a sun-tan lotion.
About its sacrifice for beauty as it clings to the goddess' skin. Doing its faithful duty because of the Goodness within.
Or anything representational or maybe sensational. Anything that will sell or just go down well
with the sensitive classes offering new insights, with the teeming masses maybe, tickling their sides
or anything that I feel amused about or something I can find a muse about but I do not feel anything and I do not find anything
I have no muse. I have no use for a muse.
What stayed with you?
A line that lingered, a feeling, a disagreement. Great comments are as valuable as the original piece.