by Nash Lott
in response to Kay Sage’s painting “In The Third Sleep” (1944)
forgive my inattention.
span the void
to reach me, I’m out
of SNRIs
they’re saying something
about sheets
about sails
I’m on some rail
tracking down sleep
dope, I mean—weed-
s grow on synapses, clutter
the yard, front
-al cortex, cannabis
over chaos
night seconds creep
you’ve caught me
unwashed, pans
around my ankles
after I was
cooked,
before I am
overdone
of SNRIs
they’re saying something
about sheets
about sails
I’m on some rail
tracking down sleep
dope, I mean—weed-
s grow on synapses, clutter
the yard, front
-al cortex, cannabis
over chaos
night seconds creep
you’ve caught me
unwashed, pans
around my ankles
after I was
cooked,
before I am
overdone
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