Narcoleptic Poem by Alan Bruce Thompson

Half asleep and dozing, gasping for air,
It's hard when we're sleepy to concentrate, to care.

A twelve hour cycle in a twenty four hour day,
Means at four and at four, a sleep in the hay.

Our regulated work ethic blesses risers at five,
Does not allow for people whose eyes take a dive.

Northern latituders think siesta is a scam,
'Lazy people sleeping aren't worth a damn'.

The mighty supermanager can fly through a day,
Without showing weakness, sleepiness or delay.

But what is the purpose of the superman's roar,
To be first at cocktails, to hold forth, to bore.

Let us pray rather for the sleeper,
For with him life's meaning is much deeper.