Broken Sleep 2008

       Broken Sleep

Insomnia.

It’s noon.

Lying in bed,

A gossip mag

My sister in-law buys.

Here, because

At seventy-

(poetic license)

Sleep

Is dear

Wakefulness cheap.

So here I sit,

MacDonald’s tray of red,

Milk, honey, bread

Balanced precariously

‘Tween multi-pillowed head

And glossy magazinéd

Thigh,

The daily start retarded.

Fallen angels fall, most likely,

From a lack of discipline.

© Broken Sleep 12.5.2008

A Sense Of The Ridiculous; Circling Round Energy; Circling Round Wrinkles;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

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