May a bolt of lightning strike
The metal posts of the headboard
Grow tendrils of electricity
Send voltage like a clutching fist
To lift my head from the pillow quite unaware
And flow like so much wobbly frozen fire
Through each essential system
Manifest in its own way
All called by a Voice of Authority
To traverse every inch of my body
Shaking and baking, front to back
Lost in a dream of Iceland's lunar cycles
And how much better the cold feels next to the artificial heat
Artificial heat send me away to where I belong
Anywhere but here
Lost in a jungle of neon signs
Now it's time for an English muffin