At Night...

Sometimes, the voices sing a little bit louder. Sometimes, the ghosts don't haunt you, they make themselves ham sandwiches, grab some beers, and use your credit card to order products from cable TV infomercials. Sometimes, the pictures on your walls scream like banshees. Sometimes, your animals know exactly how much you need them. Sometimes, your silent phone is a little too silent. Sometimes, you lie awake waiting for something to happen. Sometimes, you start to fall asleep watching football. Sometimes, the heater conceals mysterious songs. Sometimes, you wonder about the future. Sometimes, you replay the day over and over. Sometimes, the room spins because you drank too much. Sometimes, your calves cramp. Sometimes, you plot your next move. Sometimes, you breathe in and pause. Sometimes, the blue light plays off the window panes. Sometimes, you resist the urge to get up and check your football confidence pool on the internet. Sometimes, you think about calling in sick. Sometimes, you wonder if you actually remembered to take a sleeping pill. Sometimes, you listen to a dog sigh and mumble. Sometimes, you worry... and worry... and worry... that it won't get any better. Sometimes, you drift off to sleep and dream of big buildings, of songs, of pain, of loss, of sex, of drugs, of rock n' roll, of more sex, of still more sex. Sometimes, you always wake up and it's always tomorrow.

jbg