Your stint as resident insomniac
coughing up night terrors
silent screen stars speeding into the valley
thick with cloudcover . . .
Interior monologues terrifying the what-ifs
cowering in the corner of your bedroom
where nightly tête-à-têtes
announce imaginary numbers
to the worrisome packaged in plastic . . .
Better late than never, yes? . . .
Buckling up . . .
the backward logic of go-betweens
infinitesimal touch-ups
the ifs ands buts of moments
otherwise known as forever . . .
Do nothing . . . the tune earworms . . .
sidewalk cracks point the way . . .
You will be badged - and badgered -
in due course . . .
nothing else if not . . .
I can't help but think about the resurgence . . .
Yes, there will be more . . .
 |
| The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) |