of my ears as my wasted spine
aches in silent protest,
begging for respite from
the pushing and the pulling
while the heels of my feet
vehemently agree
after fifteen hours without
silence i seem to have forgotten
how to exist without being
constantly serenaded by greats;
an unusual sentiment from me
to be sure
the light pressure between the
eyes and the increasing weight
of my brittle tar lashes
calls forth an inescapable
necessity, regardless of
the need for productivity
at this hour
all that remains is a red fleece
cocoon, barely adequate
but functional, providing just enough
protection from the biting air
to facilitate an almost
satisfactory slumber
and a lullaby medley between
bob and john and colin and john again
and a bit of george and brian
for good measure
and after several unsuccessful
attempts to recruit a small
fluffy hot water bottle
i finally switch to
power saving mode
but keep the light on
in case of monsters
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