Oh endless grey clouds choking the sky,
black moon, invisible stars,
distant squeal of tires beneath
the shell of a car with a tree growing through it;
oh various trembling monsters
that lurch through cold empty cellars,
and whose scribbled claws swipe from beneath my bed,
who await me in places I’ll never go; oh
constant clatter of locomotives through
my chest, tiny trembling pigeon
lodged in my bowels, ill-formed kernels of love
glittering in the back of my throat,
in my shoulders, in the palms of my hands;
oh vivid memories of decades before my birth,
of all the pain I’ve caused, and the pain for which
I bear no blame, the peaceful dreams
of those dear to me, the misspellings on
eroded headstones shrouded in mist; oh chaos,
exhaustion, bliss, confusion, serenity, blankness,
panic, quiet, quiet;
oh endless roaring clouds
rolling over my head, I offer you this:
my lost sleep.