Poem — “I Haven’t Slept in Days”

I wrote this poem a few months ago and I don’t know what to do with it. So I will leave it here for now.

I HAVEN’T SLEPT IN DAYS

It is the kind of winter
where hands bleed from
proximity to the radiator,
positioned at ten and two
as the midnight drive persists.
It is the kind of drive
that wants for alertness,
where sleep is just over that hill,
or through this wall of rain.
It does not matter that
you have not slept in days
or that a crumpled car
would make a terrible mattress.
Or perhaps the best kind.
It only matters that the car
sings with the radio, that
the cold that has seeped
into your bones cannot be fixed
with blasting heat.

Is it here that you lose your way?

I tend to write a lot of poetry about driving — I probably have at least nine or ten poems either about transportation or that were started during one of my many, many drives (and I don’t write much poetry, so that’s a good amount!). Do you notice certain patterns in your work, perhaps themes or objects or environments that tend to stick around?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s