Sleepless Little Stories

The bedroom light that won't turn off, that nudges the electrical bill small inches. Ten Little Indians on my bookshelf that I finally stole back from Archie, who wanted to start reading things, but never did. Except for Saul Williams - he liked that. The old baseball that just fell into my laundry basket, that Dave found at the beach in Erie, and let me have because I thought it was so cool. And we tried to play stick ball, but all of the sticks broke on contact. (I've never missed anyone so much). The sniffles that I have, that came with this summer cold, that makes no sense to me. That sounds like crying on the phone and I have to explain myself. The being awake at 1:34 AM considering the subjunctive history of gay boys with accents.