She gave me Prufrock; made me eat it whole
With her it seemed like poets played a game
When I composed; she knew I’d sold my soul
And still she had the guts to call my name
We listened to the Irish lyricise
the English language. Bono and The Edge
performed the duty, like an exercise
then sang and danced while standing on the ledge
We thought they’d fall like many had before
she questioned why we listened to the band
I climbed a staircase to an open door
and made damn sure I held so I could stand
I stood and watched the muses come and go
They gave me lines to write from down below