Karen Jakubowski’s poem Intro to Blues appeared here in April 2012.

Muse’s Ode
By Karen Jakubowski

Accolades of appreciation granted to the muse
with the scant silver crescent wreath
encircling his scalp like my grandmother’s 
Capuchin monk salt and pepper shakers
which lived in her china closet
gracing us at the Sunday dinner table.
Though this particular irreverent muse,
grander in stature
with waning posture, slowly
stooping toward the lace of his shoes
and less portly than the round-headed little men
in brown robes knotted at the waist,
is not at all ministerial.

Agonizing inspiration, spikes on the cactus
spurring mental juices that drip from
tapped maple tree spigots
into tiny wooden buckets
in the thick of winter forming sickeningly
sweet drivel and boiled down syrup expressions.
Wolverine wordsmith’s rediscovery of voice
long buried under snow-capped Alaskan glacier.
Smoky sulfur assault, fissure in the dried black
lava stream remnants of a not-so-long-ago era
so quickly denied, leaving questions of its existence.

Hail to the brown eyed motivational monster,
dapper in sage with his tie tossed
over his shoulder, constantly juggling his balls.
Marcel Marceau would be envious
of the screaming silence,
his testament of appreciation to creative endeavors.
Maddening muse will not cut out my tongue.
I am not a member of the Ellen James Society.
Mixologist of memorialized meanderings
creating a casserole of word concoctions
my tribute to the muse continues …