Insomnia

Sleepless tossing nights of angry insomnia
Long hours of staring at self
Bewildered by passionless thoughts
Tomorrow waiting patiently while I struggle
No place to put yesterday
Today never was
I fumble through my mind searching for minutes
The hours thus evaporate
And a tincture of quietude bursts loudly
Unforeseen questions dwell with angels
Released at inopportune times
Placing awkward contemplation
Square into the forefront of a woozy mind
Mind mind mind
And I don’t won’t couldn’t wouldn’t
Resolute wonder battles ennui
And I can find no home for the hurt
All is swirling and I am lost again
Dreaming awake of a 1950’s Berkeley coffeehouse
Where I scribble notes on crumpled paper
Where cigarette smoke hangs resilient
Where conversation is interrupted by laughter
And coughs and clanging dishes
The coffee is getting cold
There are nickels on my table
I buy a refill
Amid whorish comments from a silly schizoid
I scratch my head and wonder at the woman
Standing by the door idly stroking her long black hair
Knowing somehow that we will someday be lovers
And that my novel will be published
By a small local press
And she will give me babies
That I will drive a Volkswagen and be
A very Sixties kind of guy
But first I must continue my scribbles
And hope for inspiration
Or am I still here in the 21st century
Trying to get some fucking sleep