Catching The Fish With Your Bare Hands... - Poem by RIC S. BASTASA

too many thoughts
so many readings
one influential writer to
filling my head with
numerous inspirations translated
as potential imitations of
this restless mind
a name you
call yourself
wanton insomniac who is still
awake at
3 in the morning

i suggest that you take a dip this
Sunday at the
beach of black sands

take the cue from the stories
we make of the
driftwood and those
colored stones and
wasted shattered wine

so i must have told you
hamlet is not a wise literary
it is hard to pay bills in
the psychiatric ward
and we are impoverished at
this time of the year
of the fire

tire the body
exhaust the mind
what they did
they cannot remember
so they are cared for
by Lady Gaga
the antidote for
sound sleep

sleep is a gift
you do not have to pay for it
it is free

but it is a paycheck
for a hard day's labor
catching the fish
with your bare hands
peeling potatoes
plowing the fields of stones
transferring rocks from one
cliff to another
rolling and rolling the rocks of
climbing the trees of Hercules
running in the lonely tracks of

Topic(s) of this poem: life

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 9, 2016

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