I said I’d be in
bed by ten. Then midnight. Now
it’s one. How ’bout three?
Can’t sleep 7
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I said I’d be in
bed by ten. Then midnight. Now
it’s one. How ’bout three?
I lock the TV
behind the armoire doors so
I can get work done.
Some days it feels like
all I do is sit on this
couch and write for hours.
Home sick, she lies in
bed, stomach queasy, still in
her day-before clothes.
Halloween spirit
eludes me, like the ghost of
someone I once loved.
It took eight weeks to
wrap the baby outfit and
give it to the dad.
Wi Fi whore, I go
where there’s access, drinking bad
java just to surf.
When the going gets
tough, I end up sleeping on
the couch, fully clothed.
Turn the clocks back next
week? I could use that extra
hour of sleep right now…
Decorations for
Halloween still not up. Life
seems scary enough.