Moonlight And More So

The world is much more so
When I’m trying to fall asleep:
Bubbles in the Perrier pinging against their green glass prison;
Cats who discreetly waited till after midnight to consummate their lust;
Unread and partially read books jostling for position in the bedside pile;
Chocolate with sea salt and chocolate with ginger breathing darkly through the gaps in the drawers;
Moonlight- somehow brighter than the sun was at noon- slanting through the blinds, sparkling on the needles in my abandoned knitting;
And words cartwheeling in my brain wanting to be couplets and paragraphs.
Bubbles and chocolates and words, where were you all day?
Will any of you still be hanging around when I wake up?

218

Cat wakes midnap to
Wash her face and paws. Oh, cat!
What dirty mischief
Did you make in your dreams that
You need to clean up so soon?

Sky Blu Grounded

The rapper had had a very rough day
And he really needed his sleep
So to help him relax and chill he reclined
The top of his airplane seat.
He was barely drowsing when somebody
Grabbed his shoulder, said, “Put the seat back up.”
His brain a little cloudy, the rapper took a swing,
Jumped up and yelled, “What tha fuck?”
An old White lady screamed, the pilot turned the plane around,
And took them right back to the gate.
Now the shit’s gonna fly cuz the white lady’s husband
Is a former presidential candidate.
Mitt Romney!

For Some Time Now I’ve Been Going To Bed With Walt Whitman

For some time now I’ve been going to bed with Walt Whitman.
I don’t always wake up with him. More often it’s someone else;
Today it was Jack Prelutsky and Lilian Moore.
But it’s always Walt Whitman I’m bedding down with.
You might suppose because Walter’s gay he’d be a help picking out clothes;
He’s not though- being dead for over a hundred years has caused him to lose track of fashion.
Shopping turns complicated as he wanders through department stores and supermarkets asking of the stock boys “Are you my angel?”
And it’s kind of odd his wanting me to bring him handfulls of grass so he can explain to me what it is.
But he doesn’t leave stray whiskers on my pillowcases,
He doesn’t hog the covers or turn off the electric blanket or put his cold feet on my calves.
On nights that sleep evades me, I lie back in his arms.
He’ll whisper “O Captain! My Captain!” till consciousness fades away.

Ambien

Fighting his nature,
He stands at the end of the bed.
The woman is beautiful- peacefully sleeping;
He likes watching her.
But Nature will have her way.
Throwing back his head, the rooster crows.
The woman stirs but does not wake.
Kicking over a bottle of pills,
He jumps onto the fire escape,
Flapping awkwardly to the ground, he
Walks the dark wet streets of the city
Alone.