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sleep?
Folder:
intermission bacon, eggs and coffee
breakfast at 1 am;
too early to be called supper,
too late to be anything else.
down to my last dinner plate:
i’ll do the dishes-
tomorrow.
when the sun rises,
and the other stars rise elsewhere
over their own, little earths,
i will dance admirably
as a gazelle across the savannah
and sing with the falling rain.
should there ever arise
some menace unspeakable
i will grow wings,
soaring to a faraway haven
hidden in the midst of the jungle.
humor my musings
(for a while yet),
the spurning of my heart's desire.
though they are fickle things
they are quite lovely,
toiling away in vanity.
