A stack of unread books
teeters, hovers
over the squeezed tube
of triple antibiotic gel
resting on my nightstand,
lying right next
to the empty cup of white monkey,
sitting on a Heineken coaster.
My electric blanket
is plugged in,
set on #2, while
my head rests
on stacked pillows,
a cool breeze floats over me.
Bastet keeps me company on papyrus
along with the raised canine
under the glow-painted
Milky Way, where
I weave stories,
minglings of half-truths
& real fantasies.
I get tired of loving the hand
& use my finger to
spread some if it
in verse, wondering
why my head buzzes me so,
or if a single soul can relate
to such an asylum,
my sanctuary.
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 3:20 AM UTC
A stack of unread books
teeters, hovers
over the squeezed tube
of triple antibiotic gel
resting on my nightstand,
lying right next
to the empty cup of white monkey,
sitting on a Heineken coaster.
My electric blanket
is plugged in,
set on #2, while
my head rests
on stacked pillows,
a cool breeze floats over me.
Bastet keeps me company on papyrus
along with the raised canine
under the glow-painted
Milky Way, where
I weave stories,
minglings of half-truths
& real fantasies.
I get tired of loving the hand
& use my finger to
spread some if it
in verse, wondering
why my head buzzes me so,
or if a single soul can relate
to such an asylum,
my sanctuary.
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