Poem a Day December #4. This one was taken from Billy‘s TED talk (2:00 minute mark,) which is well worth the watch if you haven’t already seen it.
My Muses
Bugs Bunny is not my muse,
nor is Wile E. Coyote, Elmer Fudd
Yosemite Sam or Foghorn Leghorn.
No, my muses tend to be strong, female,
fine-as-fuck foxes. Think Bettie Page
sitting on the edge of the bed
pulling on her stockings, or Vanessa Marcil
in her white bikini and bustier squatting
poolside with an over-the-shoulder glance.
Think Britney Spears her back arched
just so, as on the cover of Glory or any
of the Girls of the Swinging Door Saloon.
Just don’t go thinking of Bugs Bunny.
If you must think of a cartoon, at least
think Jessica Rabbit with the red balloons
of her breasts, those purple-gloved
cartoon fingers resting on her
impossible hips, the long slit of
her red dress revealing those long,
gloriously drawn dancer’s legs
and the tight vee of her nethers.
Or you may want to think of my wife on our
honeymoon in her size-zero denim dress,
her taut, tan dancing body, sweating
in the Caribbean heat. Although, don’t go
thinking about her for too long—she’s MY
muse after all, and not too fond of the spotlight.
