Yes, even I have my beckoning muse
who tortures me from time to time.
Granting me the eyes of Apollo,
but not his tongue to convey
the divine sights they see.

When she comes I feel and am all of them,
the Olympic Pantheon, in parts and pieces.
Zeus, for instance, whispers I must philander.
I laugh, I have not his lustiness, will or thunder.

Hera occasionally visits and inflicts
upon me second greenish looks at the mailman,
but these too pass very shortly with a laugh.

The blood of Ares infects me with
surprising quickness in my four door chariot.
And I rashly contemplate some Ben-Hur
type arena action with those two hick-titans
in the pick-up who just cut me off.

Athena and I are rarely of the same mind.
When she does share her thoughts with me
she always ends up giving me a headache,
just as she did with her father Zeus.

Aphrodite, for me, arrives fashionably late
but she is quite beautiful to behold
and she was well worth the wait.

But now I'm tired with some aches and pains
so I'm making sacrifices to Dionysius
in the hopes he'll work just a little
of his divine and easing magic on me.

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