Morning After Midnight Watch
In bed ’til noon he stayed awake asleep
Like stagnant mud too thick with sludge to flow
With sand (dried mucus) gritting eyes and cheek
“Get up”, he’d say, but five more minutes go.
Ten measured minutes spaced each reveilee
Disturbed, electrified, he’d slam the clock
To kill the bug, to make cicada stop
And then he would resettle to the bottom of the sea’s
Abysmal silt. But time and traffic noise rushed past
He eyed the window; blue sky, light
And lunch awaited him. At last
He heaved his body up from night.
A late late movie scene ensues;
The Thing crawls, dribbling dreams and ooze.