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Friday, February 19, 2021

way short on sleep


I close my eyes

and a trance starts advancing.

I'm being hugged by my aloneness.

mood is feeling a need of purpose

but I am too carefree to oblige.

I am bound in weightless blankets

as gravity failed at the spelling bee.

I gave up on wanting to drink some tea

before I knew what flavor was being offered.

no matter carries any staying power

as drift has an army 

and they are on the move.

there are billboards of quasi-impressions

but they only wave back in passing.

direction seems to have no purposefulness.

it's a dance with movement 

that has no parts.

to me, levity has in-breath status

but I have no response that wakes me.

time is such a practical joker

almost any topic would make me smile.

if this state is a drug

then my mind is a stand-up comedian. 

once it's funny,

then every thing comes up whimsy.

sleep would be a nice applause

or as a punchline 

that I can't now remember . . .

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