At 6:30 they
awake to find I’m still up.
The curse of deadlines.
Can’t sleep 6
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At 6:30 they
awake to find I’m still up.
The curse of deadlines.
Sometimes when others
envision us in new light,
we become realized.
Insomnia has
tattooed across my eyelids
its wide-awake stare.
Can it be midnight?
I’m losing track of time, hours
misplaced like lost keys.
Today computers
obsess me. (I must go back
to baking cookies.)
You think you know me.
Carefully constructed, I
reinvent daily.
Anonymity
becomes us all as we put
our second life first.
Some days the words spread
smoothly. Other days they stick,
like peanut butter.
I live for numbers.
Check my website stats hourly.
Page view addicted.
Notebook computer
the new umbilicus of
wired society.