Holidays

In the deepening yuletide season
Absconded from tumultuous sleep
Royal water is my close liaison
To life I hold so tight and seek
At night in my space there is something.


With fingers numb and joints that swell
And writhing slugs in my nariz
Imp of the perverse born in hell
Steals and usurps my nightly peace
At night in my space there is something

Alarm is on and solid red
Heat motion lamp flashes at 2 am
Catatonic sleep tied to my bed
Midget phantom in silence says
At night in my space there is something

Fresh folded clothes that suddenly stink
Articles lost and gone that materialize
Speed and cleaner in my morning drink
In my wash basin where hair is dyed
At night in my space there is something

The whisper of words in my window
Long in the depth of night
Of meaning only unconsciously knows
Far and away to the left of right
At night in my space there is something

At length my children do deny
Of complicity or wrongdoing
They cross their chest and sanctify
Knowledge of presence or moving
At night in my space there is something


In the month of the year of purity
Traveling distantly to see family
Sleep on the floor and waken to insanity
I pray to my god to deliver me
At night in my space there is something

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