Static

A blip
On a green-black monitor.
An irregular rhythm
On a night-skinned drum
Plays in my head.
Syncopated thrums,
In three long nights
Each a year long.
Mornings, noons, evenings,
Swollen, consumed.
Paltry remainder-
An unforgiving insomnia.
Loops of that still dream
That uncoils and stretches;
Lulled into ennui.
Another day
A lifetime away
It might awaken.
Rebel.
Climb on a string
And hang in the sky,
My blameless moon.