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ICantSleep
and you wouldn't believe the noise
--the hot kick of the new furnace,
the house yawning awake.
Uniformity comes with every tick
of the clock hanging over
the Debbie Mumm calendar
like a thought bubble, annotating
the day repeatedly into the next.
The dog is yipping from a dream, a body
turns in bed from the next room,
the floors crack like old backs,
adjusting to the cold. You
wouldn't believe this noise
unless you've lain awake like this,
thinking
about what and when,
the whos and hows:
all that garbage that rattles down the disposal
in the back of your mind. A car passes
over loose asphalt, a wind splinters the yard,
the grass rumormongers
and my ears prick up for something juicy:
something about the clatter of keys
on the keyboard, the great engine
of inspiration roaring to life, spitting
print into the white, day-lit sky
of a text file--like exhaust(ed).



William Soule is a Filipino-American poet from northern Utah. His poems have appeared in Read This Magazine, elimae, Tattoo Highway,
and Bottom of the World, among others. He is a featured poet at One Night Stanzas and the editor-in-chief of Clearfield Review.
He also likes cookies. A lot.



Copyright 2009