Insomniac
By katra
Sun, 12 Sep 2004
- 469 reads
My head fills with giggles
Pocket of precocity exploding in the empty.
Laughter, Laughter, Laughter.
Shriveled old men I never met
exchanging tales, as their whiskey colored spit
sizzles in the fire.
Brain eavesdropping on a party line.
The voices of insomnia.
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