Dying smoke detectors will beep beep beep.
This of course while I was trying to sleep.
I heard it dying, yet beeping away.
Saying, “Your wife should have fixed this yesterday.”
Simple fix – she took the battery out.
But then the alarm began to pout.
Pouting is a long anguished scream.
It is worse than a battery out of steam.
No more napping time will it allow
It wants a battery and it wants it now.
We had an extra one on hand.
Or it would be buried in the sand.
Everyone else went back to bed.
I will go to work sleepy instead.
The smoke alarm doesn’t make a peep.
Which is certainly better than beep beep beep.
I’m not sure what goes here today.
I don’t know what I want to say.
So, I sit and watch the clock.
Trying to cure my writer’s block.
I could attempt some more haiku.
There should be something more to do.
This should be a meaningful account,
Not just a specific syllable count.
So, I will sit and watch the screen.
My imagination has been wiped clean.
Eventually, a concept will arrive.
As disco taught, I will survive.
I hear my wife gently breathing.
I hear the dogs rustling around.
I hear the owl calling outside.
I hear the rain hit the ground.
I hear the water in the pipes.
I hear the A/C turning on.
I hear leaves falling.
I hear grass on the lawn.
I hear the ducts expanding.
I hear the monsters creep.
I hear the alarm sounding.
Now, I can sleep.
I can’t sleep.
I’m not sure why.
I’m in bed.
I’m in the dark.
What else can I try?
I know one sure cure.
It works every day.
I need to go online.
I need to find a meeting.
Then, I’ll hit the hay.
Editor’s Note: This is from a non-scientific study, but results are interesting.
Dogs sleep 19 hours a day (or so.)
They’re really not very active at all.
They will show up for all mealtimes,
Or sometimes, just to catch a ball.
So, eighty percent per day asleep,
A vast amount of total time spent,
Yet, when I take a one-hour nap,
That hour will be in the twenty percent.
I suppress another yawn.
Where has all the time gone?
There is too much to say.
Not enough time left to play.
I am just trying to hang on.
I need time to slow down.
Let the crises leave town.
I need time to think.
I’m starting to sink.
Must be a nervous breakdown.
I wish I lived on East Coast time.
I’m so tired now, the words don’t rhyme.
This meeting started right at nine,
Or eight bloody AM, Central Time.
Last week, I had a class right after lunch.
So it was during mine, so thanks a bunch.
It could be worse, I always say.
I could live on the Coast, say, in LA.
California is the place you ought to be,
If you want meetings before you can even see.
New York is the center of the universe, fine.
Just stop making us work on New York time.