I’m learning to sleep with things I don’t like,
things that press upon me from below
and drive me hard
to rip my hair out Sundays at midnight.
I should say something,
but it takes courage, so instead
I’m learning to sleep with things that please others
yet irritate each quarter of my mind till the whole
confused block is rocking to quick synthesized beats
beats beats beats that repulse like a spasmodic heart.
Tonight I will close my eyes and watch
white and red spots flicker on a black curtain;
I will watch till I can no longer fight, and sleep
jump-cuts from the noisy show to light dreams.
I should say something once and for all,
but it takes courage, and
I remind you of the 36th of May, when
In China they broke the vial and courage spilled
and seeped back into the ground beneath the shards
of glass, or trailed off heads in beads, yes, a shame
On the 36th of May leaked, twenty-six years ago,
all the courage I could use tonight.