The Stench of Insomnia

THE STENCH OF INSOMNIA narcoleptic deities in charge of the world are tangled and detangled in the threads of time they are sardonic and bitter and out for revenge alien methane palls and vomit-green ammonia vapors spread in my chamber shadowy silhouettes of insomnia lurk like wolfhound packs around the carrion i see the burrowed casts of happy people but i am unfit to crawl them tonight the wormholes to the kingdom of sleep are barred for me i open the veins of anxiety's arch-angels, a bleed-through between levels of reality and perception stranded in dimensional fossa am i overcome by emotions Hypnos throws a lasso through the introitus which i miss once again… sedated yet awake i float on a cloudery of sleepless miasma the horse-flies crawl upon this sultry humid flesh tonight stenches of anxiety and perspiration pearls of sweat and stinking fabric insomniac evangelion writings on the wall : i ruminate on my nocturnal angst graffiti ! i feel the rot of sleeplessness vibrate the very hairs of my nostrils vapors from the interdimensional scrap heap fill these tragic sleeping quarters tonight i can hear, when i so try, but quietly in my midst the sluggish march of ant-eaters make way through the Ursa Major beneath the fourteenth moon of Saturn i can hear, when i so try, but quietly in my midst, the feral paws of a feline God chasing the spoor of an astral moose upon the heavenly tapestry my head is hastily shaven and smitten with dandruff and scabs my skin is torn and xerotic and insects crawl upon it as i, once again, am banished from the kingdom the pupae dwells in every stale bog beneath the heliacal ascension of Sirius in their insectile repose : but i am not allowed to enter ! i circle around my dwelling-place as if a mosquito around a dog-day cistern alone and cold and unable to rest : my dreams arrest in this malign insomniac spell – what did i do to deserve this ? i wish no longer to enter my bed-chamber – but who am I to refuse the gift of Hypnos ? i wish i was haunted by ghosts ! then, at least, i could fear this darkness for another reason i would rather sleep with mares and demons than to be forever-awake, even if in paradise i wish insomnia upon my worst enemy : it is an excellent way to break the human spirit