Sleep

[Sleep is rarely a sophisticated activity, as demonstrated by this man bedding down in his tent. Photo via OSU Special Collections & Archives : Commons. And now for a bit of verse. . .]

The father lies open-mouthed,

Snoring in the smallest room:
Tractor vibrations jiggling

His aching farmer's brain.

The mother disdains sleep,

Province of uneducated men:

She sends the sons away

To study how not to sleep.

Each night they slip

A tiny knife into their ears

Like surgeons excising life

With who knows what call-in shows.

[Written by Virginia McKinnon Mann. This poem was undated, but appeared on the same page as "Certified Fame", which was dated October, 1994.]