Challenging Poetry

after the thesis

my muse overtook me last night,
in a fiery temper
that left my hair in a glorious friz
and smelling of smoke and dragon.
too much paper,
he said, and I agreed—

I’ve stolen so many hours running
after signatures and jumping
through hoops into a flurry of red tape,
that I’ll still owe time after I’m six years dead
all for a piece of paper
that says I am a certified creative writer,
with a master’s of fine arts that
I could possibly frame and hang on a convenient wall,
but more likely would leave in a sturdy envelope,
in the back of a filing cabinet,
with the paper that proves I graduated before.

stop, he said. write.
and my fingers itched
and my mind was an inferno
that left me too full to sleep,
too wired to read for my comps,
too distracted by writing
to waste more time
proving I can write.


The prompt was documentation. I didn't know what to do with that, until I thought about the paper I've been trying to get signed for the past few weeks--one more major bit (my comps start today at noon-ish and will last until Thursday) and I'll be done.

In the mean time, I don't know if I'll be able to steal time to write poetry. sigh. I like writing poetry. I don't like having to waste writing time getting the minutia done for graduation.