WEBVTT

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This is called "Here
is the Poet in Bed."

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I was feeling like
Snoopy one day, I guess.

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"Here is the Poet in Bed"--

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"The night has a fever,
wind, and it drags on

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like a small town.

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Can't sleep.

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Know the deer in
the brush out there

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can't either under
this hard air,

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stomping over the country to
bang on my loose front door.

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Go away, damn it.

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Take insomnia its milk
and aspirin with you.

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If you were a woman, you'd
kick and snore with my luck.

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Here is the poet in bed.

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He doesn't know
what anything means.

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He's a fraud.

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Door bangs-- shakes
the house again.

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I lie in the dark, watching the
threat of my own hand getting

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bigger than my head.

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