My 2024 New Year's Poem

SEVEN SLEEPS FOR A NEW YEAR

i.

When I wake

It will be the first day

Of something new 

That tiptoes along a telephone wire

Catching fragments

Of conversation

And writing them down

ii.

I was snoring

My leg was in a weird position

It remembered a joke

About a calf who mooed

But it was a leg calf

iii.

My teeth were grinding

My enemies

Into something

I could live with

iv.

The brownshirts chase me

Up the stairs

Soon I have

No more floors to escape to

I shove open my eyes

Reach over to the night table

Sip some water

The brownshirts screech to a halt

They mutter

Scratch their heads

(One head per brownshirt)

v.

I yawn while sleeping

My stomach growls while I eat 

 I write a poem while someone reads one of my poems

vi.

The digital clock

Beside the glass of water

On my night table

Throws a red 3:26

Across my still face

The spider dangling

Above my head

Double-checks its watches

vii.

I was sleeping

I was not a hummingbird

I was not a can opener 

I was not a wisp of campfire smoke

My head lay on a pillow

And a dream snuck out of my skull

Curled itself into a ball

Went bouncing off the walls

And out the window

Into the dark sky 

Into the cold night

Into the broken world

Where it fixed everything

Stuart Ross

1 January 2024

Over and out.