Traditional Forms
by Mike Monroe
Waiting For Sleep On Prescription Drugs


the codeine keeps me quietly awake
as air whispers down to me from vents
miles davis is dangling me between
ecstasy and sleep and fiery skulls
are burning in my mind and filling my heart

desire to write is rushing through my brain
a power rush like thunder through my veins
the moon the night watchman of the city
peers into my slightly open window
i look out imagining the smokestacks
of the city pumping blackness out

i sit alone and sweating under covers
with nothing but my thoughts to keep me sane
and everything is grey inside this room
light grey dark grey some things almost black
even my thoughts are grey this summer night
but my feelings are red and yellow and white and orange

the codeine�s dying out it�s time to sleep
i�ll wake tomorrow morning even more
tired than i was this morning

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