Fleas interest me so much
that I let them bite me for hours.
They are perfect, ancient, Sanskrit,
machines that admit of no appeal.
They do not bite to eat,
they bite only to jump;
they are the dancers of the celestial sphere,
delicate acrobats
in the softest and most profound circus;
let them gallop on my skin,
divulge their emotions,
amuse themselves with my blood,
but someone should introduce them to me.
I want to know them closely,
I want to know what to rely on.
SLEEP
Kj Swanson
Trying to sleep; What
happened to those nice things I
used to think about?
SOMETHING ON YOUR MIND
Karen Dalton’s In My Own Time
Yesterday any way you made it was just fine,
So you turned your days into night-time,
Didn’t you know, you can’t make it without ever even trying?
And something’s on your mind, isn’t it
Let these times show you that you’re breaking up your mind
Leaving all your dreams too far behind,
Didn’t you see, you can’t make it without ever even trying?
And something’s on your mind.
Maybe another day you’ll want to feel another way, you can’t stop crying,
You haven’t got a thing to say, you feel you want to run away
There’s no use trying, anyway.
I’ve seen the writing on the wall,
Who cannot maintain will always fall,
Well, you know, you can’t make it without ever even trying.
And something’s on your mind, isn’t it
Tell the truth now, isn’t it
And something’s on your mind, isn’t it