To A Muse
Give me a first line, you who are far away.
The second line will almost write itself.
In times of pain, I open the dictionary.
Like a girl in the last row who will not say
The theoretical part of the dream was herself
Give me a first lie, you who are far away.
A student laughs. I died once. Red is gray.
Cheat me like a quote, deceiving Elf.
In times of pain I open the dictionary.
Posted over on the Writer's Almanac