Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Up Late (Day 203)

Last night, we stayed up
late, my companions and I,
lulled into insomnia by
some stark-raving guy. 
Drawn like moths to 
the flickering blue screens
we held, lights on, tethered 
to the world by a handful of
characters, all chattering
away, every line rippling
with anxiety. Journalists,
artists, hucksters and me,
a smattering of fear-mongers 
among us, a meeting 
of minds like and unlike. 
Nonsensical rantings had 
scared us, but by midnight, 
it took effort to care. And that
saturation is the strange stuff 
of nightmares, the creep of 
ambivalence more dangerous
than words.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: by 809499, via Pixabay

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