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#1

My Father's Muse

Words Actually

Apr 12, 2015

792

1 Min Read

x

My father was a tinker

He had a sort of fervor

Diving into garbage cans and coming up

With treasure

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He had a wobbly woodshed

With shelves of sparkly subjects

Tin, copper, thingamajigs, he

Loved all his whatchamacallits

796Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIlwLV6pFk7

One day he took a sharpie,

Called me into his factory

‘Now, now, my refractory child

Stay very still, be quiet

796Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmQiemJVBva

Don’t move, please!’

796Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡweI6vrL9aT

He took a scalpel to my skin

And slid cold metal in

He wound me up and watched me walk

Around the garden green

796Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ75cK2oY63U

Oh, how heavy my back grew

My clothes no longer fit!

And for the fear of rusting

I became a greasy thing

796Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSEY1BEe3p6

One day he bade me kneel

He took my brains away

Between my shoulder blades he placed

A roll of yarn, in grey

796Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvYUYFyV1E5

He took the bones from my hands

And sharpened them to points

Your body is a treasure chest, he said

Take just what you need

796Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIL8whDCtmv

Sinew, guts and veins for thread

Fabric with a raw edge

Blood is hem repair glue

You are a brand new you

796Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPzj3ODPi6B

‘There,’ he said, ‘now you my dear

Are well-equipped for life

You’ll find when people cut you up

It will never bring you strife.’

ns 15.158.61.36da2

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Table of Contents

#1 My Father's Muse

#3 Love Hurts, and So Does the Way You Look Tonight

#4 Notes From the Void

#5 The Fault in These Lines (Final Issue)