Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Insomnia After the Conversation


I wrote this poem around 1998.



Insomnia After the Conversation

This is whole,
right here, right now.
Kill me then. I can't breathe
with the night bearing down
and down, giving birth to nothing
but minutes.
I know. Pain now, wisdom later.
f that. I've only got one here,
one now. The grand lie:
I breathe, eat, sleep. I can survive.
Enough.
Make all the whiteness disapper; I can't take this
void.
Your voice. You convinced me no one is real.
Good job. now I believe in death, in loss, in change.
I hate you, or what I've made of you, full of messages.
Damn. Where's the source? Where's the all?
My pillow is flat. The blankets twisted.
The moon is too bright. I can't sleep.

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