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Insomnolent Insomniac

by Dane Campbell

I mean nothing,
am nothing,
breathe nothing,
walk in dumb
meandering circles
sparking the interest of none.

Child,
adolescent,
man,
strange amalgam,
strange animal,
a kind of Cerberus
with three heads:

one whimpering at the gate of Heaven,
one barking at the mouth of Hell,
one speaking to the listless, unlistening audience of Earth.

Sick but innocuous,
I have so wandered,
luckless,
waiting,
longing to long
and for far too long,
a somnolent
insomniac,

desperate
to unwake, to bloom inversely,
to take
permanent root
into some one or other hollow,
to be swallowed
in that ceremonial gulp,

to be forgotten,
but most importantly
to never myself remember.

02/03/2014

Posted on 02/03/2014
Copyright © 2024 Dane Campbell

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 02/05/14 at 12:15 AM

A terribly sad lament.

Posted by Gail Wolper on 02/12/14 at 12:24 AM

Good result of taking too much English Lit.

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