Three in a bed

Oh for @&*#’s sake,
it’s almost three in the morning,
and my three muses
have crawled into bed with me.

One I’ve given into already
having written about my roofer,
another wants a poem about
travel and Dutch courage,
and a fickle third with a form fetish
wants a sestina , or maybe a Dada.

I’ve told them I have
150 exam scripts
to mark with urgency,
and I need my sleep.
I’m trying to take a short cut,
I’m writing this to all three
in the hope it will placate,
and they’ll now leave me be.

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