52/199-200: Having a Fit

[rejectomorph]

It's very strange how I can sleep several hours, wake up and be unable to get back to sleep, then get up and do various things for a few hours, including downing a decent amount of caffeine, and then suddenly find myself unable to keep my eyes open. It's less than four hours since I left my bed, but here I am like some exhausted old geezer mindlessly doddering graveward... oh, wait. That shoe fits better than the ones I'm literally wearing.

Fits well enough that as soon as I finish posting this I'm going back to bed for a nap. No telling how long that nap will last, though lately they've often turned into sleeps that go past sunset. It being Sunday there will be no mail to fetch, so I guess it doesn't matter. I mean aside from the depression I usually get from waking up so late in the day. But then what's an extra bit of misery to a near-cadaver? Oh, if I don't get around to posting anything tomorrow, happy belabor day.




Sunday Verse

From Heraclitus

by Alan Dugan


Matter is palsy: the land heaving, water
breaking against it, the planet whirling
days in night. Even at the still point
of night I hear the jockeying for place
of each thing wrestling with itself
to be a wrestler. Is the stress that holds
them, whirling in themselves, an ache?
If so strained to shape and aching for release,
explode to peace! But I am here poised
within this eddy, sentenced to a shape,
and have to wrestle through a gust of violence
before I sleep; so may I make or augment
all these lights at night, so as to give out
all the temporary ornaments I can to peace.