Monday, June 12, 2017


Graveyard hour
Your body crushes me.
Bones are stones.

Insomniacs together,
Blaming the other:
A future of guilt
Victims of 
pointless stress;
Punch clocks

As we lie in the 
Brightest darkness
Every breath, every micro-movement
We are playing 
monkeys jumping on the bed 

There is some red, 
Some dazzling blue:
in the purple of my

Oh honey,
Lady liberty won't bleach 
our linens white 
So sleep on the floor

Or bleed more frugally 

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