I can’t sleep in this heat - can’t sleep draped
with washcloths & wet towels & face-cloths -
even graced with spritz bottles galore I’m still
unable to sleep; my pillow is made of hot tar
& sheets of heating elements - my emotions
are all used up, my head ready to burst -
Outside a hot wind blows ceaselessly with its
unrelenting temperature; my mattress’s made
of unbearable concrete & stone and sleeping
tablets are useless - waste of money to take;
at work I fall apart, break up from fatigue; I do
love to sleep, to dream and have adventures
Wandering the astral dimensions - if it’s what
I need to be doing - staying awake like this is
unfair, tomorrow will be difficult if sleep stays
away, if only the world would cool down so my
mind can switch off, but I’m catching fire and
burning with fever - a frozen towel will help -
This will be tried immediately, maybe swathed
like a frozen mummy I can go to dreamland, to
sleep, to doze - lose consciousness, & what a
privilege sleep is, what a joy to slumber; falling
asleep is one of the best experiences there is
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem