Why do some of my best ideas
Wake me out of a sound sleep
At 2: 06 somtimes 3: 28 AM
Damn green digital numbers
Then I can't find
My beside notebook until
I bump into something
That wakes my wife
By the time I've assured her
There has not been
An attempted break-in
Found the notebook where's the pen
Finally quiet as I can
Get to the bathroom
Turn on the light
Get comfortably seatd
I am sure I have
Forgotten most of the good parts
The ones that remain make little sense
Now that I am fully awake
Another thing
Why is most of the heavy lifting
Done at my end of the process
If you don't think so
You're not the one
Who carries my full wastebasket
Of drafts to our blue recycling can
It's only the paper worth saving
Not what's on them I assure you
Fridays that blue sucker
Has to be rolled to the curb
Later I hear the automated arms
Of the truck straining to lift
Some of my best first tries
As they are unceremoniously
Carted away to be recycled
For someone else's next attempts
(Note to self: Learn to write and revise
Live on the computer
'Do not save' will save trips
To the unvirtual garbage can
I'll find other ways
To get my exercise
Gathering material
To write about
As long as I can get
Enough rest before
Another great idea
Rudely wakes me up)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
you should keep you computer in the bedroom thats what i do i sleep walk as though i am going towards the frig to eat and than write poetry.. i have till date never written a poem on paper.. believe me, the only solemn promise my wife took from me not to buy a laptop....sleep walking is fine she said but would not share her bed with microsoft.. take care peace..your poem is areal as poets...and sleepless in seattle