sleepless

flashing lights

through broken blinds
her head 
under old sheets - 
contemplating
incomprehensible things 
such as
light years, galaxies, dinosaurs
words, desire, and god

she felt like 
a character in an
old bukowski poem

you know the type
- the girl in a cheap hotel 
after days of stale pizza
and
great sex
leaving a whiskey ring
on the gideon bible
for someone less fortunate
to clean

childhood
had taught her
to not be at ease
with this side of herself
his overwrought messages
about her soft undertones
had soiled
a soulful song
with stale seediness