so, we got up late...
...my heart breaks
easily...
—Victoria Chang
This is what happens, we grow up, or
that’s what I often believe.
Teenagers
need lots of sleep. The
rod of Asclepius
“remains a symbol of medicine today,” so
take heart, don’t attack, remain chill, bed
is fine.
Calm your frayed nerves (like our dear
Mother used to be able to do, can you
remember?). Ah, sorry,
my bedside
manners remain beside the point
of no return. (I do hope that
nobody heard that. Oh,
I was just dreaming; just sleeping
one of those dreams.
One, perhaps,
always dreams, and, perhaps, often
doesn’t. Well.... “One sometimes
recalls dreams,” I was trying to
remember to say. But I,
on the
other hand, sleep for six months
and dream for six months. And I,
on the other hand, have gotten well
into the thirteenth month, a very
uneasy month.)
We are slow as a
glacier getting up this morning,
this afternoon, and this evening.
“Aren’t we?” asks the glacier,
frozen and alone, lying prone,
fearing the movement of the
galaxy.
Which does not seem to be
moving at galactic
speeds.
