c u p p e n r o o d

B125. rubber fingers

remove a tensile bit
of sleep, the dreams speaking to me
gentle lies: "The One who remembers Sleeping
makes a way for the Body."

And fear, fresh as commercial
reruns another voice from a human: "Every fiber
in your being tells you to sleep. They're
trying to steal your life."

I am not afraid of rubber fingers
in my skin, removing my brain, my tumors,
my terrors. I am not afraid to remain
in the North Sea voices, as the man whose

survival depended upon his fighting to stay awake.