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dream deprivation
Folder:
whole lotta other stuff
It is just past 9 a.m.
I hear the notion of usefulness
by unique visitors
those laborers
they are useless to me
they cannot speak to me
I cannot hear them
over the roar
I hear the earth mover
a loud and almost a fearsome tool
it rumbles and grumbles
as it rips at the rubble
another day / night without any sleep
it is not the sleep that I miss
it is the dream deprivation
if you are a creature of the night, like me
you know how it feels to sleep by day
just ease the pain, make it go away
by God I tell you it is the dreams I cannot unravel
do not judge me, as they pound me with that gavel of gravel
the growling sound of the bucket claw
it keeps me awake as it scratch’s at my stones
a sound so harsh like words in need of translation I 'd read it but I don't understand that foreign language
in the same range of syllables that rattle my bones then bury me and leave me in anguish
with links to my unfaithfully observed quotidian existence this is the sound of languish
