full moon insomnia

racing minds are like the hare that never cross' the finish the line
feeling overtake thinking the way of the persistant tortise
i create characters for the sitcoms in my mind
but my refusal to follow the arc of plot
without laugh track or crisis makes for
a boring utopia of stoic inatimates
contemplation without action
the full moon casting down
bright lights over the
stadium of night-time
only a quiet yawn
silent comentary




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