by Dawn Richerson
Tuesday, February 19, 2002
Print Save Become a Fan
Purely self-indulgent verse from a chronic insomniac.
Too much caffeine, I suppose,
has brought me to this.
I play Tetris, try, try
to forget about you. Itís about
time, isnít it? Time, sweet
time, that passes me by.
Leno laughs at his own jokes,
shrugs one shoulder, says, ďI
donít know; maybe itís meÖĒ
But maybe itís me, Jay. Really,
Iím the one without timing,
who canít let go, move on.
Train sings ďDrops of Jupiter,Ē
here on Earth T.V.; I wonder
what time it is on Mars.
Burgundy on my nails looks like
Elvira, mistress of the night. I wish
I may I wish I might.
Now that Iíve seen the lovable
Irish idiot do his stupid dance, one
would think that I could sleep.
My two dogs look up, puzzled, walk
in circles on my bed, check to see
if I am still awake.
Iíve played twenty games of Boggle
with decreasing success. Next time Iíll
reach my personal best
And then, then Iím sure, in
blissful moment of perfection,
time will let me forget.
I have taken to remembering
every last syllable you spoke
that day my world went dark.
Your voice fills my mind,
void now of reason or thought.
ďGoodnight, love. Go, now, go.Ē
But you stay the night, make me
forget ticking time. Full of you,
I close my eyes to dream.
Copyright 2002, Dawn Richerson