POETRY: 1
DRAIN MONSTER: 0
My muse lurks in my shower, and showers me with poetry as
soon as I start to shampoo. Almost always, the inspired words escape and are
sucked down the drain by the Bathtub Drain Monster before I can rinse the soap
from my eyes, get a hand dry, and reach pen and paper. The verses I allow to
get away are usually cute but not vibrant.
However, this morning I managed to capture a particularly
vicious haiku and wrestle it to the page!
I am celebrating my hard-won victory with a relaxing session
of viewing the snow-scape photos I took while on a drive over the mountains of
Sussex County on a winter's day following the season's first flurries.
NOTE: This tiny essay has been provided as a Pubic Service
Announcement for writers, to let them know they are not alone in experiencing
the saddening, sudden loss of some of their greatest ideas: It happens while
showering, driving, having sex, dreaming, jogging, and in countless instances
when inspiration hits but one finds oneself otherwise occupied and unable to
reach a word-recording device before the Muse jealously takes back her words
and refuses to negotiate a ransom.
