Restlessness Never Sleeps

The far-crying beat of the perpetual sounds of the street
slip through my unlocked window that's on strike against
the heat.

As thoughts crowd my head, I'm unable to sleep..
wishing they'd get caught on a passing train or a wisp
of wind, rare as they are on these clement nights.

Fights for comfort break out among my arms and legs,
begs for unconsciousness are drown out by fire-engine sirens,
it's about time.. this heat needs dealing with.

The paradox of quilt or no quilt,
too hot, too cold. I'm done I fold.

I retreat to a different climate as I wash away my clouded
thoughts with a cool glass of water.
But soon this also haunts me such as the heat has with the
toilet now calling my name.

It's one of those nights when struggles and fights are
never rewarded with dreams of delights.