Thursday, February 9, 2017

poetry dreaming

because the night was whimpering
I had to get away
I broke up with the slumber
and got acquainted with the day

I lifted up the parcels
of work    that were arrayed
in bulletins of information
that fired and decayed

the neurons were unwilling
to activate and run
with the burdens of these workers
before the rising of the sun

but here I am again
in the writing room of law
to make a case that's worthy
of a spindle and this straw

I wish I were still in bed
with the haunting moon fleeing
right now I have ten minutes
of poetry dreaming 

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