Dan Flore III

my idle mind, sleepless brain, and other bitchings and moanings

I don’t know what to do with myself

I’m tired like a bed comforter
but I can’t sleep

I get up to smoke
see if the hot neighbor
makes an appearance

her beauty fragrant
as a dream of honey
whenever I see her
I fall to rose bushes
get cut my on wife’s thorns (scorn)

I go back to the couch

study others writers
their typewriters
paper, pencils
the vitality of the written word
it’s here pulsing through
the vein on the side of my head
popping onto the page like a zit

my soul has been thrown
in the dirty clothes hamper
and I’m trying to do the wash

I go outside again
try to refresh
the sky is all light blue
totally bleh
like a bad photograph

I spot the moon
and say what the hell are you doing out here
it replies by asking me the same question