Discourse On Sleep Deprivation

Coffee stained mornings you still consider night,

you haven’t shut your eyes since math class earlier,

Today, yesterday, shit!

Math class!

You grab your garb and bag,

arrival a minute before isn’t late.

Fuck, wrong notebook.

Math is as foreign as Chinese anyway.

I enjoy 2 a.m. conversations, especially with her.

My suitemates disagree on the matter of taxation.

While I, don’t get me wrong,

foreign policy is important to me too,

but I prefer discourse of stars,

and, if time-travel existed,

What are its ethics?

What are the implications?

Resultative complements are used to express

the result of the first action.

Staying awake for this lecture is critical.

You certainly meet some characters on the journey,

some more malicious than others,

String after String binding round your joints,

twisting in knots.

Swaying awake for this lecture is critical.

Repeatedly writing stroke after stroke,

etching every one into pink matter,

the chanting is hypnotic by nature.

Swaying away from this lecture is crit…

STAYING awake…

just readjusting in your seat,

no one saw that.

Burning down your throat,

the complimentary coffee from the break room.

But, it relights the lamps just as kerosene on a smolder.

For two shifts,

it’s only fair.

Only for a trickle down a skinny stream,

that are your finances.

The mask is hollow,

Maintained by that burnsome brew,

lest it crack away.

But they smile back,

back,

            just lean,

back,

BACK of the chair… needs readjusting too.

You’re like an inexperienced man on stilts by this time,

respondent to the direction of your tipping,

your steps;

Lifting just to catch yourself and continue going.

How’s it going? Tired?

– nope