Thursday, June 24, 2010

new poem from anthology writer, Matthue Roth

He talks about his story in the anthology and how this poem relates. Great poem, too.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

My Muse is Back

I was strolling across the San Francisco State campus, taking my time on my way to class, when suddenly my muse appeared beside me wearing an orange sundress and large, round sunglasses.

"Yummmm... there are some mighty fine young boys at this school," she said. "And girls."

"What are you doing here?" I stopped walking and looked around quickly, wondering if anyone else could see my nemesis and the mistress of all my creativity.

She put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "Good to see you too."

"I thought you were on vacation."

"I was."

"Then why are you here now?"

"I'm back."

"You're not supposed to be back yet."

"Says who?" My muse smiled a slow, sardonic smile. "You?"

I pulled up the shoulder straps of my too heavy back pack. "You know I'm in school right now. I don't have time for you."

My muse burst into a belly-laugh and her snakes joined in, hissing in tiny, whispered puffs of glee. "I love it when you pretend that you're in control. It's so funny." She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. "Seriously though, I cut my vacation short because I figured out how to fix the ending of your play."

"That's great, but couldn't you come back in three weeks. I really need to get to class."

"No I can't come back in three weeks. The inspiration is now. I fixed your play. Don't you want to know how?"

"Of course I do. I'm excited to see what you've come up with. But right now I really have to go to class. It starts in ten minutes."

"Fine. Go to class. I'll just take the ending of your play with me. I haven't been to Nepal in a long time. Maybe I should do some mountain climbing this summer." She narrowed her eyes. "All summer."

I sighed. Why are muses so sensitive?

"Okay, I'm sorry," I said. "I appreciate you cutting your vacation short and dashing back here to help me with my play.  Thank you." I touched her arm gently, making sure I was out of reach of her snake hair. "And I want to hear all about it. Unfortunately right now I really do have to get to class, but can you meet me after and we can talk about your ideas? Please?"

She crossed her arms and stared at me for so long I began to twitch. The clock was ticking and I was now going to be late for class, but still she stared. At last she shrugged and said, "Alright. I'll meet you after your ridiculous class and we can talk then. Really, I don't understand what all this fuss is about school."

I decided not to argue with her. I was late. "You're probably right, but it's important to me. So I'll see you later."

My muse watched me walk away, until a tall, young man with long dark hair rolled by on his skateboard, weaving around pedestrians in a lazy grace. "Oh my..." she said, and then suddenly she too was rolling by on a skateboard in silent pursuit of the beautiful man. She smiled at me when she passed me by and I laughed. At least she'd be distracted for a while.