The Dread Pirate Mermaid Princess Poopypants

I shall not dance 
for you today, not on fins 
nor on siren’s sails. Not on 
confused muse mirrored lake, 
nor these damned pages. 

These quills hold porcupine sting
and no lasting high,
and I 
am tired. 

Even the syllables of my own 
name taste like dust. I’ve thrust 
my inky sword forth 
one too many times. My rhymes 
just mock my pain.  

You can take your parchment cage,
your empty treeskin rage
,
this blank and boring bone
-white trap. 

I’m going home 
to take a nap. 

::

My alter ego muse’s misguided attempt at day 8.

Day Eight

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