2:37am EST

I slept
in a garage in protest
one night
last fall
when the trees were stripping themselves

the leaves blew in under the door
all night
keeping me awake
forcing memories of yesterday
which was why I was out there
in the first place

what really happened was
I couldn’t see the stars for the clouds
and it bothered me
beyond any measure of knowledge
obtained and stored in my head
about what stars are made of
or about what clouds do in the sky
while people sleep

I could tell you all about what sleep is good for
and about what type of cloud
is in the sky
but I can't tell you a damn thing
that you want to hear
about who I am
and why I can't understand
why you can't understand
anything about me

it could be that you can't fathom why I sleep in garages
or why I write poetry only
when it gets cold outside
but I'll save that for another cold night
when you're bugging me for answers
and I can speak with language that spans outside the realm
of poetic devices