Sleep removes herself from the crimescene

Sleep removes herself from the crime scene
I am so slow today the world seems to career past
faster than it moves in its orbit

I suck noisily on grins of Honeydew
over the sink, the clear melon blood
dripping from my knuckles, leaving
tacky stalactites over hundreds of years,
gumming up the stainless steel rim

So slow that through the window
I can watch quarry rock
clatter down hills armoured with waving
seed arrowheads, hikers zip like radical flies,
trees explode and melt in torch flashes of sun
walls tremble and throw themselves
to the ground like dead limbs

So slow that I can see, beyond that,
milksplash after milksplash of wet cloud,
rainbow hill eaten by feet - sheep collapse,
their skulls blow away

I suck my fingers - slap the peel on the worktop
and go back to bed, unconvinced that this is the country
I went to sleep in