Insomniac Ditty

abberes photocredit: Adam Eshack

Insomniac Ditty —
For Beda who loves Kurt


I’m going fishing
I stroll down to the lake in Ferragamo heels
aerating the ground as I made my way
the worms all showed signs of stigmata
and dug deeper
but I didn’t need them
I had watercress sandwiches made on Pepperidge Farm

I put on my Channel sunglasses
and my black opera gloves with the buttons at the wrist
then used my best David Yurman hook
so shiny and silver the sun’s reflection blinded the fish
and they floated to the surface blinking their eyes hypnotized
I called each by name
and took their picture one by one with my best Carl Weiss lens
though the f-stops melted into black licorice
and a crane swooped down and took it for her scrapbook

It was such a lovely day the moon came out for a visit
and showed off her most recent meteorite scars
which bled of golden Courvoisier
making us both quite tipsy
I mentioned that it was time for me to go inside
Kurt Vonnegut was coming over to show off
his Bagombo snuff box
and I mustn’t be late

I melted my hook into a toe-ring
and told the moon to wear it for good luck
through the tip of her crescent head
she curtseyed and promptly broke her orbit
the stars lines up to cushion her fall

I fed the remaining watercress to the heron in the bandana
and walked back to the house barefoot least I wake the worms
the sun was cooling her back in the lake when I turned for one last look
the clouds wore gray argyle socks on as they passed

I closed the door and looked at the clock
he smiled through capped teeth and spit out the time
it fell to the floor and shattered
we don’t need it” the clock said
no, I suppose we don’t, but how will I know when to wake?” I asked
Don’t go to bed, stay up with me.
How logical I thought —  and waited for Kurt
cradling the broken minute hand…

Abbe

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