Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly … – Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland


I un-wake to damage.

Neurotic light-bulb flicks

once off, once on, illuminates

imagined city

skyline.
Inside my bedroom it rains

for days. The head

full of synaptic hauntings

shudders. Old-milk sky,

dimming.
I tell myself there is 

a world outside

the world. Stay still

completely

still and gather dust.

                 Watch the fretful halls.
Walls convulse,

contract & close. The filament

at the bulb’s heart flickers. I

am half

dream-drowned Lethe. 
There is a sickness not worth

surfacing. Better

to sink. To listen: soft light, soft

light & the pressure

of doorways.