A poem of two hours sleep

Day is Done

Driving into the sun

Is a plus one situation.

You can not do it alone

So I listened to THE DOORS.

Batman was there in a quiet rage

Looking for the dead-skin-on-air once again.

Anyone would understand

What was being said between the lines.

And so I went into the jungle

To drown within my own juices --

And discover that within my own ending

I was perfectly dry enough --

To enjoy the music.

I had to believe in the early Spring

In spite of a late winter --

I found my sleep.

It was chilly

I was hot --

And that was fine in the morning.

Written by Eli Reed (during a relentless search for sleep)