So where is
Gone on vacation without leaving
A note ?
Contenting me with a web video
On how mozzarella is made.
Or another that waltzes me
There some crazy violinist channels
Strauss for plump Burgermeisters
watching svelte dancers in
Gowns only an over-decorated
Sacher torte could appreciate.
Ah! That’s the reason, sleep won’t come. Too much sugar.
Have a glass of water and wash it from your system.
No, wait, then I’ll be up, making bathroom runs,
Oh, the travails of
Aging like those ballroom spectators
without even a wolfhound
To keep me company.
That’s it! Canine companionship.
No, again not a remedy,
I’m allergic to dogs.
But human contact might work.
I’ll call my friend John, he’ll know what to do.
Can’t do that either.
He and derelict Morophoman
Might be together at the local bar
Throwing back quantities of schnapps blinkers
With the Dive Bar Divas.
So, attacking the problems in about four ways
Got me nowhere.
Fifth, I don’t take sleeping pills.
Sixth, it’s irreverent to pray for sleep.
Seventh, walking round might set off the alarm.
Eighth, ninth, etc, etc, etc,
Only works for Yul Brynner trying his bare feet
Out, while Deborah Kerr sidesteps his fat toes.
What to do, what to do?
Sit up writing a silly poem?
Tire yourself out with this nonsense?
Or enjoy the foolishness of it all
Till your buddy “The Big M” returns
From his night out with John, the glam gals
All drunk as skunks on Austrian alcohol, trying
One, two, three, one, two, three, box step, box step,
Turn and swirl
Long into the sleepless night
While waves of sweet Blue Danubian strings,
The sound of which. . . . .
Oh my gosh,
I don’t believe it.
Rocks my cradle,
Calms my woes,
Sends me right off to sleep.
August 25, 2018