SLEEP STANDING

eyelids are heavy,
weary from the repetitiveness of a life thrown in reverse
not a benjamin buttonesque backwardness
but more like a regression of what one was close to being

a heart in pain, not enough to take a life force
for it is something all too familiar
survival is merely the constance, when love gives way to secession

gifted a j - o - b, where at the moment
the love of words have ironically eaten away at me
typing legal descriptions of properties for 8 hours
new words such as appurtenant and easements
where all i look forward to
is the amount my bank account has grown
...I have turned into a capitalist
what happened to the budding romanticist in me
where i yearned to check my memory bank
instead of checks and dollar signs

though one thing has remain unchanged
my insomnia it still remains

i stand my ground outside, with a cancer stick to my right hand
winds of change blow by from behind, torrential, unrelenting,
a signal for things to come may be?
it whistles in the back of my ear, an eerie tune that may mean nothing at all

embers burn the side of my fingers, rousing me awake
i open my eyes to realize, all along... that I have slept standing up,
living a dream that can never be.