(insomnia poem)

i’m topsy-turvy

or all sprawled out

like somebody’s been hit

upside the head

by some proverbial brick

hewn from leftover gloom

or pressed from muddy malcontent

but nevertheless

lobbed into the hapless throng

by unhappy circumstance

where it chanced to meet my jaw

— smote me where I stood

sent the ceiling sailing

the hours swimming —

undiluted and diffuse.

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