InLiWriMo #19

“I’m an artist, you know” said Louise,
“I’ve a banjo that’s made out of bees
I can summon my muse
Without drinking booze
If inspiration’s a lock, I have keys.

“But I’m an artist,” she said, “so let’s drink
To Bacchus, and slackers who think;
Women and men,
Lovers and friends
Drain your glass to the bottom, and sink…

“.. Down into the roots of the earth
Then erupt in a frenzy of mirth
’til your lungs ache and wheeze
’til you fall to your knees
’til your nose bleeds, and your ears burst

“For the artist goes out on that limb
To the Universe’s very rim
And as we are struck dumb
Deaf and blind, we become
An ontological hymn.

“If inspiration’s a fight, I have clout
And if it’s a pig, I have snout
And if it’s a beer
The solution is clear:
Let’s drink ’til we’ve worked it all out!

“Let’s drink ’til we’ve worked it all out
Let’s drink ’til we’ve worked it all out
Let’s drink ’til we’ve worked
Drink ’til we’ve worked
Drink ’til we’ve worked it all out!”