that sick feeling you get

Can't get the door unjammed.

the muse's song
will fall amiss

and then? there's
nothing
on the page
again.

the fingers
hold the feet
hostage
with a pen.

Author's Note

Ha-ha.

Reviews

[Brandon Lee]

When the muse is shotgunned in the back. Check the killer, not the hostage. The killer has the ink, the killer has the clues. The muse is not dead, the muse is the gun.

Great poem, love it.

Keep up the work.