Stop in the Name of Sleep Before I Get My Gun

Stop in the Name of Sleep before I Get My Gun

a drowsy numbness pains
John Keats, “Ode to a Nightingale”

My head throbs, and dyspepsia dis-mays
my corporal frame, as though I’d drunk
twelve high-gravity IPAs
and into a drunken snoring stupor had sunk.

O, give that leaf blower a rest,
neighbor, as a favor. It’s not yet eight
this balmy May morning, and over there a nest
of nightingales rests. Please shut up, okay?

2 thoughts on “Stop in the Name of Sleep Before I Get My Gun

  1. I feel you on that one, Wesley. Nothing’s worse than waking up to the sound of a two-stroke engine inside of a leaf blower. I wish they would put some kind of muffler on those things in the factory because it actually could be considered noise pollution.

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