I do not sleep;

I hear house

toss and turn it’s weary

bones of wood and linoleum

scrape of tree limbs

tickling shingles; dancing

with wind

whoops from party palace

crackle of their fire pit; crinkle of

their beer bottle labels sweating

low moan of firehouse siren

scrambling sleepy volunteers

into the night

lonesome whistle of commuter train

shuffling the undead from city

to bed

puffs of your sleep breathing

as you turn away

click over of digital alarm clock

marking another half hour spent

listening, lost in summer darkness’ symphony

insect confessions of katy did it; tuning of off-key cricket violins

munch of slug before deadly slurp of beer

artificial water falling; swish of insomniac koi

perchance, do fish dream in technicolour?

I dream in chunks of night soundtracks

projected surreal movies of my cracked brain

against street-light shadowed wall

© Lorraine

mlmm Sunday writing prompt 218