The city thunders, groans, drones, whizzes and whirrs, squeaks, honks, gusts, rumbles, wheezes and rattles.
The light leaks through, not just light,
presence, all the windows coming in through your window.
The others snore, talk in their sleep, ("Take off your shoes!") take up the bed. Join them again and you might wake them and then they will want what they want--always thirsty.
The bed creaks. Mattress springs sproing. The pillows are hard, or squishy.
It's just a little too warm.
Dinner was a chemistry experiment.
It's still bubbling. Foul barbecue sauce--
So much for comfort food.
Mouth tastes like medicine.
A plane flies overhead...
Soon the birds will start singing.
Yes, there they go.
I have traded my dreams for these unsettled nights.
I watch over him, back to the world, having lost so much of myself, within and without,
satisfied still that I made out well.
