Melatonin.

I haven’t been able to write lately mainly because I’ve been so unbelievably busy, but it could be the melatonin I’ve been taking.Lately I have been on this weird sleep schedule that doesn’t seem to coincide with my actual schedule so I started taking this sweet sleep aid Melatonin. Awesome dreams.Me, shooting Ron Paul…Me, zombie, lysol spray?and a lot more lucid dreams than I could want.And as long as i don’t take 100 a day my ovaries are doing just fine (well rested).But, I’ve been working on some poetry here and there.dotdotdotdotdot. 

“An elegant not-so-fun Dinner party”

 

I use Thyme to counteract this taste lathered on my tongue.

And rosemary could be used to carry the look

This dish dishing on plates doesn’t taste to die for

But all of my effort has been poured into the sauce for my dinner party.

 

I constantly pour glasses half full.

And place the forks towards the precise.

Somehow the clinking of the crystal glasses gives me giggles.

Napkins creased till they cease to crumple.

 

I am the happiest I’ve been in years hosting a dinner party,

to hear babbling of towns I once knew.

Although traveling would be nice,

I wouldn’t serve others

 

The way my dinner parties serve you.

 

“4/4 Measure”

 

 The circadian rhythm

The beat beat and yawns.

The turning of a light switch

Is sometimes interrupted

The gap is bound to be placed

On an inconvenient date

Because the events in the lives of our own

Will become a broken morass.

 

It wasn’t a good day to bomb Pearl Harbor

There was a slight overcast.

If it would have happened any other day

I could’ve been prepared.

 

I could have stored canned foods

Hide them in my cellar.

And I would be aware of this change of tempo.

I can change it into the climax of this poem.

 

The circadian rhythm

Can’t be accurately depicted

As a rhythm

But more

As a

                        Progression. 

 

 Those are a bit old, but I needed to update…

 

PAIGE.