Menstrauting Muse

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I was truly invited
by a menstruating
muse,  to a game of
Words on a white pa-
per bed. To tickle with
a bleeding pen and kiss
her glossed lips of metaphors
and smell her odour of similes,
and to fondle her crisp nipples
With my running milky thoughts,
driving her through ecstasy of
writing orgasms, screaming yahoo! 
as my pen giggles and groans
oozing more words, words on words
never found on bing, islamicpoem, or the great google, not even on the waving sea of this vast social pacific
called facebook.
But I wasn't truly in that mode.
so, I divorced her revocable divorce
and now that I'm truly in this mode  I've cursed her to menstruating
without a perfectly defined period
and I've cause her to crying
"poetry a food for thought!"

      Musa Shehu Uthman
     © January 2810

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