Have you ever noticed that inspiration pops up at the least expected most uninspiring times?

Two minutes home after 100,000+ minutes of exhaustive travel, I see our neighbors doing the Spring burn on their bromegrass out the back window. My husband paces the floor, peers through the blinds and evaluates the technique while I throw off my work clothes and climb into comfy sweats. Without even thinking, I reach for my camera (my REAL camera) and start snapping, wishing the photos could capture the whoosh and the heat and tell-tale smell of a fire burning almost out of control. What a metaphor for the last three weeks.

Something tickles at my brain because I can’t quite remember something I know is there.  Where can I find a poem? Who writes about fire?

I do the “writer’s cheat” and Google, find the poem by Charles Bukowski below and immediately know it’s perfect. The hammering at my brain continues, nagging, pulling, yanking, “You’ve read this before. You’ve seen this before. Where?”

So, then I reach for the second weapon in my “writer’s cheat” toolbox and pull up Words for the Year and find this. Not only did I forget about reading the poem here, I even commented on it! Duh! This chick needs some sleep…and a vacation day.

Thank you to Christy and Jennie who inspire and keep me sane on the many days I feel far from it.

~~~~

this kind of fire

by Charles Bukowski

sometimes I think the gods
deliberately keep pushing me
into the fire
just to hear me
yelp
a few good
lines

they just aren’t going to
let me retire
silk scarf about neck
giving lectures at
Yale

the gods need me to
entertain them.
they must be terribly
bored with all
the others

and I am too.

and now my cigarette lighter
has gone dry.
I sit here
hopelessly
flicking it.

this kind of fire
they can’t give