Inn-Sum-Knee-Ah (“Insomnia”)
I throw words at the ceiling fan
to break them apart over
the bleeding sheep on the carpet.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Pepper it over the bodies
while the fur is still waving
to the wind of the artificial air.
Five Six Seven Eight
My back cracks more than the
tocking insanity of the creak-squeak-squawk
crocked blame of the spinning blades above me.
I still can’t breathe.
Nine ten eleven twelve
The purple spot on the wall wanders between the bitter
clouds and the rocking streetlamps that wink,
as if to welcome me with “We are not sleeping either.”
But we will watch.
Thirteenfourteen.
That might be a good thing if I didn’t have my eyes closed,
burning from the inside out.
Fifteen. Sixtheen. Seventh
Sleep.
...
Viktor Aurelius read four of my poems on Whispers in the Dark Radio, a horror poetry show.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
Inn-Sum-Knee-Ah (“Insomnia”)
I throw words at the ceiling fan
to break them apart over
the bleeding sheep on the carpet.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Pepper it over the bodies
while the fur is still waving
to the wind of the artificial air.
Five Six Seven Eight
My back cracks more than the
tocking insanity of the creak-squeak-squawk
crocked blame of the spinning blades above me.
I still can’t breathe.
Nine ten eleven twelve
The purple spot on the wall wanders between the bitter
clouds and the rocking streetlamps that wink,
as if to welcome me with “We are not sleeping either.”
But we will watch.
Thirteenfourteen.
That might be a good thing if I didn’t have my eyes closed,
burning from the inside out.
Fifteen. Sixtheen. Seventh
Sleep.
...
Viktor Aurelius read four of my poems on Whispers in the Dark Radio, a horror poetry show.
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