Who sleeps on New Years Eve?

I’ll be spending my NYE/NY on a plane back from Buenos Aires, so, what the hell, one more random poem from my dark past. Again meta.

Pode to Sleep Deprivation

As I stumble through the bedroom bleary
Seek a pen for writing weary
No letter to a darling dearie
Merely poetry, and nothing more.

Nothing more? Poetry is the dance of the candleflame hunger and the drip drip thunder of the wax burning under every last pore!

Poems should be dark and dreary
Full of demons large and leery
Sleep-deprived, bummed and beery
An interminable bore.

You’re a bore! My dream is breathing gulping the night seething lurking looking for me with chomping teething peering ‘neath the bedroom door!



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