I was securing the pin in the diaper
when someone banged on the door
and it was this guy
in an orange fishnet Florida Interstate
T-shirt
holding his bike helmet and saying
Hi, I'm the Muse.
You?
Yeah, name's Floyd.
Well, come on in. I'm in the middle
of a bunch of things.
Best place to begin. Now---
No. I mean I'm fixing dinner,
my little boy's awake, and---
Lady, Lady, Lady,
you'll never get off the fucking ground like that.
What're you cooking?
Millet.
God, the Lady eats like a bird.
Honey, you gotta have meat to make poems,
takes blood to make blood sing.
Be that as it may---
I can see you're not serious.
You got anything to drink?
Beer.
That'll do.
Here you go. You know
it came to me in the kitchen
with you here, maybe I could
do some work. Dinner's ready for the oven,
my little boy's been changed
Could you watch him awhile?
The MUSE?
The MUSE a fucking babysitter?
Who do you think you are?
I'm sacred shit, remember?
I'm holy shit---
Well, how are you going to help me
sucking on a bottle of beer?
Baby, I can take you to Bliss City
in one spin on my machine.
When I've finished, you'll be so inspired
your tits will blow up balloons.
Great. What about my son?
Ditch the kid awhile.
You can't fool around
wiping asses
when I'm ready to fly.
Fly? What about writing?
Remember words,
those heavy things---?
Jeez, she's climbing on her soapbox.
Go on then. Who cares?
Scrape your life from mayonnaise jars.
You won't see me again.
Promise?
Cries of the Spirit: A Celebration of Women's Spirituality. United States, Beacon Press, 1991.