Muse MockerPosted: June 5, 2012
When I told Granny about the poet’s ”self-published” book of poetry, she couldn’t hold back her fangs. “Whaaaat!” she exclaimed. “So in other words, it’s a non-happening.” Granny has one setting: real. The lady can’t help but keep it real.
I explained his obsession with finding a muse. “A muse?” she giggled. “He needs three muses. He needs a muse for morning, noon, and night.” I wasn’t up for any of the positions.
“Do you remember the movie?” she asked. “There was a movie about a man looking for a muse. He probably saw it and thought he would copy it.”
“He’s a poet,” I said, half-defending my date/half-winding Granny up.
“Oh he’s a poet?” she scoffed. “I think he’s stealing poetry and moving it around backwards.” She laughed at herself. We both have the tendency to crack up at own jokes, even when they’re lame ones.
I wanted to write off the poet but I felt bad after I received the text from him after our date: “I never write this time of year but you inspired a poem.”
When I told Granny the only thing it inspired was more mocking from her, “Ohhhh he doesn’t write this time of the year? Maybe Santa has to come out before he writes,” she cracked up again at her wit. “Oh good Lord. Oh my God,” she hollered.
“I feel bad,” I whined. “He keeps texting me, I just want him to stop.” It can be hard being so desirable…
Without a beat of hesitation she said, “Tell him you’re going to Africa.”
The lady is witty, resourceful, quick, and sneaky. I am definitely her granddaughter.
LISTEN TO OUR CONVO: convo