no muse

by Calista Dirdja

I cross my leg over the other 
and pose a fist under my chin
becoming so contemplative
with a cup of cold caffeine.

I sit with a pen in hand 
with nothing to be written.
Seeking a muse, 
that hid in the dark
somewhere with no clues.

The clock feels quickly ticking
like when I drive my mom’s old Avalon
off from Buitenzorg to Batavia.
I scratch out random thoughts on the blank, 
triggering an afflatus to flow
no pop-up; no show-up
and completely screw up.

I drink my cold coffee at last
just to make me brew a new one
hoping it would bring a memorable verse
even if it is a simple three-line haiku.

ah, finally!

I surrender.