Worry and fret

Get stashed

In the bedside table

 

The darkness

Of the late hour

 

Makes your blurred vision

Temporally meaningless

 

Fighting with your eyelids

Just stalls your reality

From your date with fantasy

 

With your external senses

In dire need of rest

Your mind relaxes and explores itself

 

This is when the best ideas come

Free from pragmatism and structure

 

Every night I make a deal

With the Sandman

 

Exchanging half baked poems,

Delusions of grander and possibilities

 

For a one way ticket

Down the rabbit hole

 

The swap over tired musings

That make inventors wealthy,

Authors captivating, and crazy people

Just that

 

For a restful sleep

And a return to the ordinary

In the AM

 

So next time,

Try to barter with your nighttime friend

Maybe your eye crusties

 

Might just be the genesis for your next poem