Sleeplessness

This way of sleeping is like a nation
I came to by mistake and stayed in
for a reason I can't remember, "just
until I get back on my feet."
Somehow I keep going to sleep later
than the night before and feeling tired
at exactly the wrong times, so I stay awake.
I stay wide awake in the country
of dark closed doors and drunk drivers
on their way home from the closing bars
or heading out to Wal-Mart for light bulbs.
I long wake up at the slow sunrise hours
and feed my body on that unlikely light.
But that is the country whose dreams
and slogans are all I can remember.
Here, in this country of lamp-lit blacktop,
vaporous thoughts, and lightless eyes,
this is where I pull up my chair, this
is where I take my boots off the floor.
This is the only place where I have
a number of uneasy loves everyday.