Litkicks Message Board Archive

Bedtime Iago and the Sisyphus Stone

Posted to Poetry

The morning crept along
In it’s usual daunting fashion
Shedding amateur light
On a novice day
Things stirred
My porch was no longer comforting
I had hidden there
In my chair
With my blanket and book
To avoid the awful thoughts
That hover above my pillow
Some nights I just can’t get near that damned thing
That bedtime Iago
Just won’t stop whispering
Through it’s false-friendly floral pillowcase
So I hide
On my porch these nights
In my chair
With my blanket and book
Forgetting the world
As it forgets me
In those stolen moments
(As the bedtime Iago whispers on through the night
Out of the hear of my ear)
I am whole
But morning
As it tends to do
Crawls west across the shadows
Inch by inch
And confronts me in my exile
Telling me it’s time
To emerge from my flannel cocoon
Click on the auto pilot
And head toward my Sisyphus Stone
For yet another day