In the Way; Insomnia # 111218
I lie in bed and twitch, tired, but not sleepy.
I don't know what to do with my extra arms and legs.
Wherever I put them, they are in the way, cordwood
piled against raw skin. My body twists into a mobius strip,
a single surface of angst. Electricity crackles
and snaps down my spine, leaping from vertebrae
to vertebrae. My left foot circles and rears
like a wild stallion. When it leaps from the bed,
it drags the rest of me, protesting, with it,
out into canyons of darkness, lighting the night
with the lantern throbbing from my weary skull.
Mary Stebbins Taitt 111218-0200
