Prompt (Two for Tuesday): Write a love/anti-love poem.

The Muse

I’ve been sitting at this desk,
day after day, scratching out
words in heavy black ink, waiting
for her to help me bring life
to the page. She breezes in the door,
plops down next to me in a huff.
I’ve begged her to show
up and now she has to squeeze
me in between the hot shot architect
and the close-to-a-comeback
rock star. For the umpteenth
time, she explains how her job
is so important—she alone
lights the flame of creativity
to set the world ablaze. She leaves
behind haikus and rhyming couplets
like trinkets to be traded
for islands or gold, then scoots
out the door to catch a future
Nobel scientist in his sleep.
I love her the way a neglected
child loves an absent parent—
with all my heart
with all my hate.

~Pamela L. Taylor © 2013