A Room of My Own: Imagine for John Lennon

A long line of Calliopes clad in lily-white, waiting in the hallway. Each is enveloped in the darkness of her own, screaming. Drops of sweat stream down my forehead, falling past my eyes onto the floor. I yell, "Push, baby, push ...." The last words holding on to the inside of my muse's womb for hours.

I'm a dreamer ...
a twinge
in my heart