Why I Write, Part x+53: I Search High and Low

Sometimes the Muse points my pen to the sky,
and I become a Poet of the High:
Sincere in aesthetics, I write of the beauty
In people and nature, the High Poet's duty.

Behind mind and soul stir loins, ready to go.
Once they start, I turn to rhymes of the low,
Write of envy and violence, put words to my lust,
Try to make aesthetes turn back in disgust,

But to divide my work thus, to make a distinction
Is to render those verses and this one a fiction.
While it's true that I search for the Muse high and low,
I'm a Poet of Truth anywhere my pen goes.