What about all those
Things that fall through
The cracks the undefined
The mislabeled misleading kinds
Those that lack conventions
The square pegs that
Will never fit into
Round holes where do
They all go when
Pedestals are reserved for
Heroes and not oddballs
I will tell you
One inch or five
Feet or miles upon
Miles upon miles off
Of your pointing finger
That’s where we go
At last the crickets
I wish they’d slow
Wound much too tightly
Like a teenagers first
Sexual experience too fast
What’s needed is intimacy
The slowed heartbeat of
A sleeping lover the
Rolling surf of his
Shallow breathing absent of
The days deep sighs
But instead I hear
The chirp chirp chirp
Of now now now
Not sleep sleepy sleeping
Tonight I won’t sleep
Until the moon does
The white fat man
That gobbles up stars
And once fully filled
Lays beneath West’s horizon
As his sister sun
Glows giddy for dawn
Wearing her yellow dress
Where are the sounds
Of sleep the cradling
Silence that ferries day
Across the nights channel
Taking with it tourists
Of day spectators onlookers
That ooh and aah
But never really care
I hear far off
Train whistles beckoning me
Sleep is this way
The rocking of tracks
Like my mamas arms
Night bombarded by dreams
Blood on my soul
I feel it pulsing
As wave after wave
Crashes against the breaker
Overtaking my mind’s levee
And drowning sleeps hope
Awake now and shaking
Monster under my bed
Hides behind my eyelids
