Insomnia

Cloaked in the thick
Spring Fog ——
this island latenightsways
in the cold Atlantic
(246am)

I myself am hungover
yet still haven't slept
just as all the rest
(comforted minds)
stale beer memories
sleep&dream

And from my lonely
Drunkhousetop, to my surprise
Brahms op. 83 swells —
for you, in (silent)
gratitude

Mark me, Good Lord of my sleep,
God of the raging coast,
one of your saved ones
cast away, ever drunk as I might be,
on this great wink of
Eternity
where even the stars bend
towards your laugh