The worst part of deprivation is
really getting on a roll— and realizing
“I could go on like this— forever,”
but soon I would
burn and sleep
is chasing me more fevered
than death ever will.
So I give up, wasted, dreaming of
that might never get written
because I laid down
after never standing up
since coming back home last night.
Still, I got five down—
and that’s better than most.
But still, if I had just stayed up—
the next one might have really
been something special.
(This one is not. Sorry.)