We don’t get along, we never really have.
I hate the thought of giving into Morpheus’ seduction
and the sound of a thousand yawns and inevitable,
“It’s Bed Time”, joyfully shouted as the radio
was switched off with glee, just as I was listening
to some news from a far off place, or the glimmer
of a new song that had caught my ear, all cut off in their prime
and with accompanying whine “Why aren’t you tired?”
Of course I am tired, for over forty years I have been shattered,