The sweaty disgruntled man sits
with his eyes closed, not sleeping,
barely aware of his words
as the hand he stares at in his mind
relates what he is actually witnessing
in real time, if time is at all real.

A sudden drowse captures his head
and he drifts off for a few seconds,
marginally aware that he is drifting.

Then again, he drifts due to lack of sleep
going on 29 hours nonstop.

He is suddenly startled by the left hand,
which has brought a large glass of cold water
to his lips through a generic plastic straw.

The sleepiness is witnessed through
the sudden sloppiness of the writings
which so happily exist at the top of this page.



Online gaming addiction became a problem for me in 2005. The situation described in this poem came about as a result of playing an online game overnight, then working an 8-hour shift followed by more online gaming until I began drifting in and out of consciousness. I wrote this right before turning of my computer and stumbling to bed.


About these ads