Words are sleepwalking
Around my mind
I tell them to go to sleep
So I can go to sleep
I pull words by the sleeves
Beg them to come to bed with me
They refuse to
Continue to somnambulate
Not like an ambulance
In a hurry to get to the hospital
After the gunman wounded
Nearly 500 folks and killed 58 people
No, they walk like
Jaywalkers, not heeding stop signs
Made by the signals
Of my frustrations
I gather the words into my arms
Ask each one to fall asleep
Like senescent babies
I would croak them into telling me
Their relationship to insomnia
Which they don’t know exists
What kind of synthetic vitamins
Will they take?
Before they lose their bodies
To my memory?
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Excerpted from Fish Carcass by Vi Khi Nao, available via Black Sun Lit.
