Thursday, November 16, 2006

#207: November 16, 2006

I'm groggy and bone-tired; my brain is wrapped
In cotton and my ass plated with lead.
Coherent thought's a project should be scrapped,
As every second image is a bed.

It's hard to work on just five hours of sleep,
With bland blank screens inducing lethargy;
Bad, bored, and boneless--sluggish, I should creep
Through gardens and find rocks to cover me.

Oh let me dream of dreaming; let me fall
Through scented linen onto mounds of fluff;
Let me rock like an infant there, and crawl
Out only when at last I've slept enough.

And should you find me snoring at my desk,
Please douse the lights, punch out, and let me rest.

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