When Inspiration Doesn’t Call

The call of inspiration?

I don’t think I ever got it

I’m five years old again

Waiting beside the telephone

It doesn’t ring

A decade goes by

There’s no call

But I’m patient and I wait

I paint my nails

More years pass, and I keep waiting

Every day I sit next to the phone

Hoping for something

The phone still doesn’t ring

I play with the coil

I’m bored and exhausted now

I ordered a cheesecake

I don’t feel like eating

I don’t feel like doing anything at all

I doze off right beside the phone

I hear it ring in my dreams

I pick up the call

I hear a distorted voice

I wake up. My head hurts

I pick up the receiver

I talk to myself

The call of inspiration

It was waiting within me all along

I feel dumb and foolish

I have wasted way too much time

I pick up my journal and write

A sad poem

But I smile

I’m five years old again

In my yellow dress

My mother is cutting a watermelon

I’m playing with the telephone

It doesn’t ring

All I can think about is watermelons

...

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