Because we all want to write more poems.
insomniac
midnight. who needs sleep?
the clock is a lie.
a silly lie. there are hours
yet before dawn, you can
think just fine, of course,
you can accomplish anything
with will power. it's one, then two.
it could be bedtime, now.
but some idea catches you,
and you think hmph, why bother.
soon it's three, four. they
always slide together, malleable,
doughy hours, elastic but hollow
like rising bread.
being awake
feels like dreaming.
and then there's five:
no turning back now,
it would be stupid to sleep
for two hours and then get up
and go to work.
you aren't tired.
you might nap, shower.
then again, as light begins
to trickle through the clouds
you hear a plaintive voice
from the back bedroom,
little feet on the wood floor.
you say it's okay.
you say you woke up early.
he already knows
it's a lie.
- Jennifer Dixey's Shared Poems
- Log in or register to post comments
Comments
Benjamin Gorman
January 31, 2012
Permalink
wtf?
I JUST decided to (finished watching House on Hulu) check in here, with an idea for a pome about staying up late.... and here you are with your insomnia! goll durn it! STOP THAT!
Like the "always slide together, malleable,/ doughy hours, elastic" image
Jennifer Dixey
January 31, 2012
Permalink
ah, but ...
Your insomnia ain't like mine. And vice versa. I want to read about what it's like for *you*.
I'm fond of that bread dough image, too. I'm starting to think it's 'elastic and hollow' not 'elastic but hollow'. Hmm. 'elastic, hollow'? Lordy I do love poemcrafting. Sigh. Now it's time to sleep! :)