Artifex Insomnes

In noctibus illorum gustum vigilatum est enim sermo... It goes something like this: Barely hanging by a thread thinking, thinking over what I’ve read and said and spit out from the tip of this pen Up late, awake when I should not be. Should not be? Who decides that for me anyway? Anyway, it always just so happens to be, that I’m up so late when I should not be. Head cocked to the right, eyes drooping closed but trying to fight the heavy dose of Sandman’s midnight special. What is it girl? what do you want? What are you hanging on for when that warm tug of the Sandman’s leash keeps pulling, pulling from ‘round the door What itchy thought brings such delight that you’d stay here all the live-long night and wake up to the morning light so dazed and sleep deprived yet somehow so unfazed and so alive. Desperation to become this thing you know you are, overnight become a superstar. Running on that final fume but cannot miss, cannot miss that spark No, gotta make some room in this room, so dark so nice so dark But sure as hell won’t fall asleep in case I miss the rapping of the muse, tap tap tapping on my door. She could be here any moment, agitate my words and foment them into a frenzied orchestra of… **et in fine, cum dormivi et calamum in manum tuam**