Is it the sleep engines that keep me up at night? Turning slowly on their shafts grinding slowly through their past and present and into time. As far as I can hear the engines moan deeply. A nightly course of whispered creaks and broken bones.

Something wakes me. Is it the groans of the day? Or the singing of the stars?




Where are these other worlds
Promised so blithely by the
Yappers of each day.
I can no more focus on their buzz
Then on a beam blasted through an eye.