Insomnia makes strange bed fellows of us all
as sleep replaced by poetic sense of irony
as when we are alone we find good company
within the spirit box of demonic technology

there beneath the glass rise unspoken words
seemingly writ by modern day planchette
as disembodied heads with rictus smiles
beckon us with whispered promises typeset

fingers fearing rheumatism fumble with keys
unlocking neuron pathway to answer their call
to find peaceful rest beneath ink stained sheets
as insomnia makes strange bed fellows of us all