Tuesday, May 6, 2014

(11) The Committee of Sleep

11. Same day as 10. Now we might be getting somewhere...

The committee of sleep
Meets every night between
my dark purple sheets
trasforming rough dead bard
into soft green moss cool to the the touch
The committee of sleep
seems to be going out for breakfast at 2 am
Leaving me alone
I can smell the maple syrup
they are pouring over their
buckwheat waffles
The smell is heavy
it's sweet and strong
But I cannot eat

I do not feel like eating
Instead I lie between the sheets
rustling -

My body becomes a coiled spring
ready to explode

Next to me lies a sleeping buddha
peaceful until I wake him up with my rustling
my wandering toe or my pound of the pillow
The smell becomes sour -

I lie itchy, wishing it was morning


Come back committee of sleep
All I do is think about
how dirty these sheets are
All I can do is go mad
until morning

Tomorrow night
I hope I'll be so tired that the committee of sleep
will not want to go out for waffles without me
I thought they were on my side
I think they are
But I miss the early mornings
getting up with the dawn

When my sleep committee refuses to remain present
I face the mornings wanly
at 9 or 10 am
Feeling shocked and sheepish that
it happened once again

It's hard

There are so many breakfast places
the sleep committee wants to try

All I can do is try again

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