Well, at least I got a few hours in tonight.

I recently found an Internet station called SKY FM — all modern jazz, and by that I mean the good shit — in the past hour I’ve heard Sun Ra, Albert Ayler, Ornette Coleman, Cecil Taylor, and Thelonious Monk.

If I’m gonna be up, this is a good station to be up with.

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The following poem expresses the opinion of one poet. It does not necessarily represent the views of all poets or their affiliates.

WHY THE MUSE IS A SADIST

why did you wake me up? i was
so joyfully dumb, lumpy and dreamless
on the flat bed when you insisted
i get up and talk to you.

so i’ve turned on the laptop
and I’ve been waiting. what is it
you want to know? i know
you’ll make me sit here all night
until i figure it out, so
offer me something — a hint,
a sign, even a direct question —
and i’ll snap to it.

what was it
that made you think you could
set me here in front of a blank screen
and say nothing? if there’s something
i’m supposed to make clear for you,
tell me — i’m all yours, there’s nothing else
to be done now, i’m ready, my hands are on the keys,
i’m as angry with you
as i am breathless to find out what you want.

then, if you’ll let me get back to sleep,
i’ll do everything else i must tomorrow —
earn a living, make friends, save myself.
and after that, i promise
i’ll come back to you and take down
everything you tell me. i’ll be all yours again tomorrow night
if you’ll give me back the hours you stole tonight,
because, seriously, i just want to sleep now. there are things
more important than poetry, you know.