Invocation of the Muse, kitchen sink

Invocation of the Muse, kitchen sink

Sing and soak me free—
                                   Scrape off the rice
that’s crusted thick along the bottom of
my skillet mind,
                         and let the Dawn go slicing
through this grease-thick pan to loose
my pork-fat tongue, washing these milky words
from corners long unscrubbed.
                                                Flip over the spoon
beneath my flow of thought,
                                           and let me soak the world.