we all knew Monica was Russian spy; she was rich
but lived like a poor person; always desperate money
for corporate lawyers to perform complicated legal
services she would only hint at & that she could
provide to others but Monica wasn't a lawyer; she's a
spy she says b/c her parents are spies; her birth mother
speaks only Russian although she understands English
I was once told & then asked not to mention it to anyone;
everything was a secret w/ her; I always thought her
adopted mother was a lawyer; a power blonde fashionista
w/ a pleasant personality who'd sometimes stop by in a
limousine to take Monica to first run Broadway show;
it was the first time I ever saw a white limo although the
wood paneled town car had a nicer interior finish

the stretch stopping in front of the tenement
Monica trotting out dressed in head-to-toe Versace:
Monica's adoptive parents are Russian spies;
I didn't know spies could adopt; Monica born Natasha
was from Russia & learned to suppress her
Russian accent attending exclusive American schools
across the country; one or two years here & there;
never more than three anywhere so she was raised
in America after spending her first few years in a
Moscow school for the children of spies; I think she
was selected to be the perfect straight-A American
youth; in her thirties pretending to be seventeen
Monica never did homework but it always got
done & she didn't go to any of our schools; we all
went to different schools during the day & hung
out together at night & on the weekend; Monica was
really smart & beautiful & thought by some to be in
witness protection b/c of her lawyer father's dealings
w/ the Russian mob but how can he be in witness
protection when he's still doing business w/ them;
oh those are just my father's friends; your father's
a gangster I said to her one night & she explained
all the secrecy to me;it  the first time I heard the phrase
skullduggery & when we asked Monica's ex
whatever happened to Monica ; she mentioned
they were moving but suddenly &the whole family
& all their things disappeared; oh, yeh, he says
I helped them move out overnight; they made me
promise not to say where; u know Monica
& her family her spies he blabbed at last;
oh yeh yeh we all knew that drinking beer &
smoking on the stoop; w/o Monica things became dull;
Sean the kid in the IRA went back to Belfast &
couples got married & the crowd broke up;
no one wanted to get investigated & eventually
we all stopped talking about her as if she had
never existed; her whole family were spies that
acted famous & rich & lived under assumed
names; I heard her father speaking once in Russian
but when he saw me looking he started speaking
forced English about the Yankees; I remember
thinking they always tell u to think about baseball
& figured he was on a Russian phone-*** line; but
I guess he figured I was just one of the neighborhood
kids & he knew me & he started speaking Russian
again but more pleasantly, smiling & laughing now;
his disguise must've slipped b/c he was ******
at the time; standing outside the building beside
the black limousine on a call w/ a 'client' & yelling
at Monica that her skirt was too short; she went back
inside to change but she never came out; we found
out later that after the prom she & few choice friends
had gone to the new club w/o us in that same skirt;
we even couldn't get in that night; Monica was two
separate people; I mean she was two different girls;
I know that sounds crazy but if I mention Monica to
any of my friends to this day they look at me like I've
lost my mind; I've seen the look before; before they
laugh worriedly & say boy, u've got some imagination;
I must have heard boy u've got some imagination at
least three times like that's what they were told to say
& they'd rehearsed it; friends who never knew Monica
nod solemnly before saying u've got some imagination

Narcolepsy* hard and heavy watch me fall asleep
            Lulled to bed in a cunning thread of the tangled web we weave
    I dream in pristine colors, windows of my mind anew
No fingerprints or ***** looks or evidence of you

         I find comfort in forever wherever it may be
        I may have left my home but it will always stay with me
                 The smell of all the smoke with the sound of all the rain
   On constant playback every second deep within my brain

        I found that time is all that matters and everything else faded
        I spent years and years learning how to forget everything I hated
    I've only gotten older and have nothing left to show
              Except a ringing alarm clock and blood on my pillow

     Narcolepsy** hard and heavy watch me as I sleep
     Another pill, another high, another date to keep
      If I shall die before I wake, I hope that I'm with you
    Then it won't matter where I go, cause you will see me through

The light fades behind the moon
My heart is once again tainted
It is as if the darkness assumes
My soul is to be repainted

It's claws thick and stained by blood
Like a werewolf it howls sadly at the sky
I thought then it understood, but
I plea, I beg, dear god tell me why

I become this monster in my flesh
When the sun descends and retires
I become overwhelmed by death
And give myself over to haunted desires

I am asleep inside my own mind
These acts are not my own
I wake horrified to find
That inside I'm not alone

I’ve got five minutes
Then I must leave my verdant patch
On the skirt of a wind-rustled lake
hidden behind Logan's Roadhouse

Five minutes
to mentally finger with the fetal position
In which I awoke this morning,
there as the sun drew long shadows,

I, a diminutive daub of nautilus,
On a California King,
rippled plane of sand,
Sporadic shivers, beneath a chenille blanket

I, the town crier of dawn as
My own dreams ran screaming through the silence
Pointing a finger at
my sanctuary… “Here is your pearl thief!”

Men in hats, briefcases, heel-toe black clicky and shiny shoes
on leashes lugged,
Yanked by noisy hounds passing by
stop, sniff, snarl-toothed *******…

then one caught my scent,
“Five minutes more sleep,” I implored
"Find another dreaming fleshy mess of bones!"
And leave me to my pearl.

But it’s a universe that simply will not wait
And suffer fools for sleepers,
not a moment more
Yet for my many sleepless minutes after,

Dusk till dawn, and still beyond,
it’s always,
                  five
         minutes
more