Headwalkers

I haven’t been sleeping well lately.  I have no reasonable excuse.  I just can’t manage to slow my mind down long enough to slip into dreamland.  I’m an over-thinker.  I always have been.  I probably always will be.  It’s not like I’m terrorized by worries, fears, and various haunting regrets.  No; I mean, we have some pretty great parties, my brain and me.  I just need a brain-bouncer who determines closing time and then loudly proclaims, “We’re closed!  Get the F Out!” so we can all call it a night and get some shut-eye.

When I was young and single, I tended to blame my insomnia on the floor of my apartment.  If I lived on the top floor, I figured I’d sleep like a baby.  If I lived on any other floor, I would never, ever sleep again until I packed up all of my worldly possessions into 17 boxes (9 for books, 5 for music, and 3 for thrift shop clothing and couture shoes) and moved to a higher elevation.  Why?  Well, obviously it was the headwalkers.

The headwalkers bump and clump through the night

The sleepless sleeper gets no respite

With a tap and a whap and a clippity clap

They bump and they thump and they never collapse

Night becomes day and day becomes night

But relief never comes from BRIGHT FLASHES OF LIGHT

See, darkness pervades through the eyes in these hours

But each THUMP WUMP WHACK lights a spark with its power

Beyond the dreamless raccoon circled eyes

And into the ZIPPITY BIP WHAPPITY mind!

It’s really fun to say out loud, the faster the better.

Now I live out in the country with only the sweet, subtle sounds of nature to accompany my slumber.  However, it seems that when the bouncer evicted them, the headwalkers took permanent residence in my mind.  Good luck in there, fellas.  It’s a wild ride.