The place beyond fatigue.
I dream of a rose the color of eyelids
on a soft lambswool bed amidst a fragrant
cedar forest, damp earth and twinkling leaves
playing with the sun. I feel the warmth on my cheek.
Here drink this it will help you sleep.
I sleep. I must, for I wake each morning
but the way of it never changes.
Get up exhausted,
fall asleep working
get up stiff-necked and ache in knees
go to bed to lie awake for hours
of wishing for blue-black stillness
or the right memory for once.
You should get some sleep man, you look like hell.
I find myself wondering if I’ve made too many holes in the walls
will the owner mind, will the rent go up again, or the hangings fall
and lay strewn about the floor.
I worry about the bags under my eyes.
I can only ever make poor first impressions
the efforts are taxing and go to waste.
© 2012 Anthony Sell – All Rights Reserved