by Jeph Johnson
I daydream through the night and snore the live long day
Hit my snooze alarm when others hit the hay
I gotta get up, get dressed and go out some place
Turn her circumstantial glances into poetry
It's wise, I suppose, to exercise tired bones
But my stylus hits the screen of this cheap cellphone
And I gotta write these demented thoughts down before
My reasoning scatters them all over the floor
My poet friends tell me to show and not tell
But they're telling me that and not showing as well
I guess I gotta get a grip on writing reality
But I drift even further from the real things I see
See she's seldom as exciting as the princess in my head
And when someone surprises, I'm not usually where she's led
So my muses remain mysteries unbeknownst to them
It's almost nonconsensual, how I collect them with my pen
But I think it's really just a sort of way to keep me sane
Capturing them one by one in cages in my brain
Because in the world where they exist they won't come peacefully
I must abduct who I can from my own fantasies
And that takes imagination to get those dreams in my head
To conceptualize my hypothesis so I think I'll stay in bed