cycle of [no] sleep

gluey sac containing me

like exhausted insect  

preserved in amber

the grit from a hundred

roads I should have trod

in dreams fill my eyes

each blink a battle to

open again, just to squint

through the greasy smear

of fatigue. everyday tasks

become insurmountable

thrust high on the tip

of tectonic plate of 

day meets night 

smashed into mountains

I cannot climb. not today.

it will wait this day. every day.

as still the world whirs by

a treadmill of tasks, commitments

meetings and duties

slack-jaw stared at, viewed by

me and my omnipresent buddy

my befriended Befuddlement

always by my side, ever loyal

glooping along in glutenous

shuffle. a path of mistakes

and baffled spikes of emotion

littering a trail through 

the lucky sleepers.