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alive at night
the day is trivial
the night is tranquil.
all critters crawl out
of corners in
the dark
awake is being alive,
solitude is harmonious.
I woke my dog up, he stared up with
the laziest eyes, fighting to keep them
open
like he might miss something.
all the freaks poke around
at night
life is ample,
even when I am
alone,
in a room
or crowded in a bar
insomnia slithers
through your spine,
just laying
motionless.
with a circus playing
behind the curtain,
so deceiving to be a
puritan
to the religion of money
just give me a couch,
...maybe a few books.
and paper to portray
my mind
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