Dreams swirl

into the suction hole

of memory.

Emails shriek,

 

“This is how

many times

you should shower!”

 

Delete, delete,

delete, delete.

 

Even the dogs

and the laborers

remain asleep.

 

I check my pulse,

feel the current

course through

 

what remains

of my veins.

 

Determined river,

released from

slumber’s dam,

 

shoves its way

through the blockage

and flows upstream,

unencumbered.

 

How many more days

until it runs dry?