Shake September

Woke in earliest
Switching sides like some
Double agent– which is most comfortable
But Alice just sleeps, and well–
She does everything better than me
I go to get jack, he’s talkative and only
Wants his mother
I can’t blame him
I go downstairs at 3:52,
Already dreading the next day–
Open book, all exposed truth meant
To hurt and heal
These are notes no so much a poem–
I should be asleep but I just want to
Write and catch this narrative, early
Literary whispers that merchandize me,
If that makes sensible taps at me, thoughtsheets,
New music to play,
My own Miles.