POETRY
Heavy
It is heavy beneath
the grunting weight of
a late night
followed by an early morning
eyelids like ancient wallpaper
that wants to fall
in a slow spill
and land, heavy,
on the floor
flesh packed like too many feathers
making a weighty lump
where it sprawls beneath
a creaky ceiling fan
tongue is a peony
stuffed in a dry mouth
tarnished tinfoil light
unwelcome through the window
tipping toward the end
of the day
head scraggled, tangled
as a wizened beard
frayed and wavering
this pantomime of trying
to be normal is heavy
when all that’s wanted
is the welcome circle
of nighttime again
and another chance
to race along the
rainbow of dreams