Author Information
A Shaking Bed
Even the dirt, sweat, and oil upon my flesh oppress me
My bones are like pipe cleaners
I walk like I'm dragging chains
Tiny Christmas lights pierce my pupils
I hear the ashes fall from your cigarette
As loudly as an avalanche
I droop into bed
At the pitiful nexus
Of open and closed-eyed dreams
My heart racing
Shaking the hats atop the bedposts
I'll stay with my mind in fifth gear
Until I burst into a paroxysm of slumber
Or get up and dust my bookshelves
Until the next day
Bludgeons my battered mind
