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in[soma]nia

no rest

for the wicked

or for

me,

no my

dreams keep me

tired,

no fire

has burnt my

bed yet,

no i’m

watching

laundry line

silhouettes

from:

the shadow box

of my head,

no this

isn’t pain

as much

as its

disorienting,

no i

need medicine

something to

keep me

awake

because

i forgot

to blink,

no it

makes no difference

whether my eyes

are closed or

open,

no dust

left

suspended in light

over the ocean

trenched

darkness.

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c

Written by

craig-reynolds

American

Published: Jan 15, 2011
LinesWords: 4180

Permission

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