Thursday, January 21, 2016

today's poem, letting it be here

the nightmare that woke me at three
that night’s waking, the nights not waking
one, two, three nights in ten years? still
last night, this night just past, the one that
woke me had to do with a contraption like
a see-through toilet bowl inverted flushing 
into solidity a column of brown clay, which
after I delivered, to the hectic emcee, the
dry arms of the radiator pulled me up in 
the sheets and down, gasping for water.
next in the routine: start running fast away
wild to solve the world woken into, how to
make a life in this world that won’t precipitate 
nightmares in a sleeping one? thoughts and 
thoughts and thoughts, too hectic to pause
for a drink of water. somehow, I fell asleep
again, and woken anachronistically by the 
sound of crickets from my phone, wished
for more time in the sheets and the down,
now bathlike, the dream in which someone
was interrupting me to tell me I belonged.