Wrong way on a dead end street

The ancient eavesdropper

Sharp
as a tack,
I painfully misstep.

Eagerly 
ready to fail
at a moment’s notice,
the gun signs and
I false start at the line.

Cool
clear-headedness 
leaves me frostbitten,
sanity steams off 
my body like dry ice.

Comfortable
sleeping with no springs 
nor soft pillow,
I relax and recoil,
hard head 
on a hardwood floor.

Nervous 
of nightmare bills,
I sleep during 
the day with 
the sun on to save
energy.

Thirsty,
I sweat from 
my glands 
and drink rain 
as it pores down
the bridge of my nose
into my moat mouth.

Angry,
I count until 
100 Mississippi’s 
drown out my shouts.

Tired 
and testy,
I stretch the sleep
from my lids 
and pull the blinds 
shut over my eyes.

You can also read the companion poem by clicking on this link:
More ways than one.

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About tyler4turtles

I am an avid photographer, poet, ecologist, bookworm, blogger, art enthusiast and runner who calls Montana home but lives in Oregon.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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