deepundergroundpoetry.com
Hotel Mausoleum
How abject, to haunt some midnight aisle
When heretofore the brain has left the pan
To coop fly in some zombie style
Meant more for a debauched beast than a man
Whose pan brain tells him sleep is for a bed,
In chambers, and not for public display
Like an act done by any walking dead
Unable to distinguish night from day!
Leave, decedent, the night for those who think,
Still encumbered with toiling souls
And neurons nowhere near the final brink
Of thought as lifeless as the Dead Sea Scrolls!
Save the lingering of your mental scraps
For navigating daytime booby traps!
When heretofore the brain has left the pan
To coop fly in some zombie style
Meant more for a debauched beast than a man
Whose pan brain tells him sleep is for a bed,
In chambers, and not for public display
Like an act done by any walking dead
Unable to distinguish night from day!
Leave, decedent, the night for those who think,
Still encumbered with toiling souls
And neurons nowhere near the final brink
Of thought as lifeless as the Dead Sea Scrolls!
Save the lingering of your mental scraps
For navigating daytime booby traps!
Published 21st May 2022
Author's Note
Have you ever conversed at length with an insomniac dementia patient? I have.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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