The Business Of Inspiration (Muse #2)

It's all in the spasm. My mobile
vibrates like a bumble.

You texted at four
in the morning. Yawn. What were you

up to, at that hour? You want
a quick fix, a bolt of blood

to the head. You think I'm
made of ink? I like to lie here

pinching my fingers around a cup of Orange Pekoe
at this point, my pillows

puffed up like adders. I'm a muse.
I don't do mornings before

I've dived in and out of a dream
or three. Call you back.

April 2005

From Muse Poems and others