Fuck Up Recipes


We create the Muse 

The watchers never see the cauldron
the stench of experimentation
every still born story
every tripped up dance step
off key note
and regretted brush stroke

All the fuck ups
stirred in
strained and remixed
until the live idea
until the graceful move
soaring aria
and perfect touch
are ready for glittering consumption 

The magic is always after the fact 
after the exhaustion 
migraines, twisted ankles 
and voice box straining 

And the Muse gets the credit 
that imaginary monster 
that beautiful beast 
that scene stealing bitch 

April 8, 2020

Day 8 of 30

Day 2 of 100

Image of unknown origin, used without permission, with no credit taken, no profit made, and no offense intended.

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