I’ve noticed that on many days
my muses, in their varied ways,
amuse themselves at my expense
and leave me in a hapless daze.
To compensate, I make them wait
and while I do, I contemplate—
when I unfaze in future days,
might they catch up a bit too late?
Ken Gosse usually writes whimsical, rhymed verse. First published in First Literary Review–East in November 2016, later in Pure Slush, Home Planet News, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Spillwords, and many others. Raised in Chicago suburbs, now retired, he and his wife live in Mesa, AZ, with rescue dogs and cats.
Please accept my deepest praise,
and when you find out how
to unfaze your days,
could you suggest to me a coupla’ ways?