Ode to Insomniacs
When you're up with the owls and moon people,
I'm in a cozy slumber, deep in dreams.
You can do so much;
String together stars,
Enough to feed a whole village
Your eyelids droop with weariness.
You remind me of mama and papa
Who worked till their bones broke,
While I lay indolent, on a couch,
Embarrassed by their smelly armpits
Urged them to eat well, sleep well,
And bathe daily. To no avail, my voice
was smaller than their American dream.
They both died young,
And you, and your sleepless nights,
Traumatize me all over again.