OCCUPANT
The sad mailbox of my extreme youth, what did it ever deliver? The only...

A CRITIC
Pick up your socks. Clean the house once in a while. Go to the dentist. ...

HISTORIAN
Piles and piles of books, boxes of documents, photographs, bones, shreds of clothes...

YOU WHO KNOW
I was just enough bigger that I could wrestle you into the clean straw of the mow...

GRIFFY LAKE
I spread my smooth water like a lap and caught the trees' faces where they fell...

Dear Eric,

You owe me. Pay up. According to my accounts, you have
borrowed inner light far past your capacity to use it. 
So many blessings you promised me are nowhere.

Soon, if I do not hear from you, whatever truth you 
see will lodge itself between brain and bone. The skin 
inside your skin will rip away. I will have something 
of you, if not what is mine, believe me.

You owe me. Pay up.

The Muse