22:17 (a poem)

I turned off the TV a few minutes after ten to go to sleep. A few minutes later, I looked at the clock…

I have been lying here for hours
watching the clock not move

The longest twelve minutes of my life
loop over and over
the front’s rapid advance
engulfing the usual nightmares
that disrupt my sleep
and wake me up to mutant arachnids
hovering above my face

Deep breaths and socks on the floor
are no match for too many details

I should have poached a better storyline
for my self-deception
seeing as how the roundabout
is notoriously tricky to exit

I’ve resigned myself to this empty bed
and blankets falling to the floor
of their own volition

(21 January 2017)

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