August 9, 2015

For those with their Lights still on at 1 a.m. {Poem}


Was it a nightmare

or a dream

that caused you to kneel before the moon, concerned,

then in a flash, flick on the lights?


The number eight from the Thai restaurant?

Sending you to the bathroom,

hunching over,

feeling like no one else in the world is up

but you.


Yes, you must be the only one.


It was the newly-minted ex-lover

who decided to call and confuse you more.

Rewriting the rules you had

just finished etching in your alabaster stone headboard.

You are angry,

yet you still want to throw your hands up:

I surrender.


You are making ramen.

That is why the light is on.

You unexpectedly went to karaoke and you are so hungry.

But you spent your last dollars on beer

so you could sing Linda Ronstadt with illuminated confidence.

All you have in the cabinet is cat food and ramen.

You have never been so happy before.


You spoon the noodles into your mouth.

When you close your eyes you are in a hot bath;

someone is giving you a head massage.

It’s nice to live alone.


Is it a good book that is

stealing your sheep?


Are you planning a mid-life crisis?

Are you going over the speech to your boss that you will

deliver tomorrow morning?

“I quit!”

But you’d like to make it more eloquent—

maybe reschedule it to next month.


Is it simply because you are not tired yet?

You stare at the ceiling,

wondering about the day.

How well it was,

who you will see tomorrow?

What is waiting for you by sunrise?


Relephant Read:

6 a.m. {Poem}


Author: Savannah Gignac

Assistant Editor: Nicole Cameron; Editor: Alli Sarazen

Photo: JennyPoole/Flickr

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Savannah Gignac