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