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.
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