Monday

Despite the coffee I just can't shake it.

Sleep and perchance dreaming.

Not that it was an untroubled night.

Too much caffiene, cats on the bed and snores from next to me took care of that.

But after it all settled down, all should've been well.

But not really.

Because at night the devils come out to play.

The banshees shriek.

The demons chase eachother around the landscape of my head.

Like some kind of populated Pinkham Ryder painting.

There was one in the ASU art museum.

I would stare at it for what seemed to be hours at a time.

Losing myself in the texture and the depth of the color.

Thinking that if I could just reach in far enough, the Arizona sun couldn't reach me.

And that I could then sink into the green darkness and rest a while.