In Somnia’s Song

OSI, Insomnia prompt

in Somnia’s Song the Sheepish

look at superstition, a pug’s glare at it: don’t you fail me.
I have my lucky sock on. sleep is inevitable.

the outcomes are all ad hoc. waking proves sleep
like death proved you lived once.

nah. the hammered thumb of rule: try and you fail.
fail to try and fail slightly less

but care less about the wins because when being action,
you’re too busy being a moving target.

even you can’t hit yourself. your limbs are each to their own
dimensions and dementias.

you are the 5th plane of existence or distorted petty what-ifs,
a fretful mess or curious whimsy

at the fluffy moon-comforter. sleep doesn’t care to hear
about your mood, witness. it shrugs.

nothing for it. sleep frequently. wake at 2, 3:30, 4:45, 7,
7:30 still winter storm night

and the solutions are still hours
of mistakes out of light.

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