it starts. again

last night
i went to bed
a little later than the yellow mucous
collecting in cavities around my head
dictated

(sickness is a grave master)

and had to put up with another hour
of words refusing
like overenergetic toddlers
to play
‘lie down and sleep’


this morning
i woke up
a little earlier than
a tense pulse in my forehead
suggested i should

(sleeping is a grave practice)

thinking still about
words
words
words

and i realized
that it’s
started.
again

(but this time, i think
it’s going to be okay.)

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~ by translating for peas on October 12, 2009.

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