Some people confuse inspiration with lightning <br />not me I know it comes from the lungs and air <br />you breathe it in you breathe it out it circulates <br />it's the breath of my being the wind across the face <br />of the waters yes but it's also something that comes <br />at my command like a turkey club sandwich <br />with a cup of split pea soup or like tones <br />from Benny Goodman's clarinet my clarinet <br />the language that never fails to respond <br />some people think you need to be pure of heart <br />not true it comes to the pure and impure alike <br />the patient and impatient the lovers the onanists <br />and the virgins you just need to be able to listen <br />and talk at the same time and you'll hear it like <br />the long-delayed revelation at the end of the novel <br />which turns out to be something simple a traumatic <br />moment that fascinated us more when it was only <br />a fragment an old song a strange noise a mistake <br />of hearing a phone that wouldn't stop ringing<br /><br />David Lehman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/january-1/
