Insomnia
Thin are the night-skirts left behind
By daybreak hours that onward creep,
And thin, alas! the shred of sleep
. . .
Thin are the night-skirts left behind
By daybreak hours that onward creep,
And thin, alas! the shred of sleep
. . .
Now you hear what the house has to say.
Pipes clanking, water running in the dark,
the mortgaged walls shifting in discomfort, . . .
When I have baked white cakes
And grated green almonds to spread upon them;
When I have picked the green crowns from the strawberries . . .
Piping down the valleys wild
Piping songs of pleasant glee
On a cloud I saw a child. . . .
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be . . .
Come when the nights are bright with stars
Or come when the moon is mellow;
Come when the sun his golden bars . . .
In Los Angeles I grew up watching The Three Stooges,
The Little Rascals, Speed Racer, and the Godzilla movies,
. . .
Somebody said that it couldn’t be done
But he with a chuckle replied
That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one . . .
It’s the little towns I like
with their little mills making ratchets
and stanchions, elastic web, . . .
It sifts from Leaden Sieves -
It powders all the Wood.
It fills with Alabaster Wool . . .