Thoughts Before The Much Needed Sleep... Poem by RIC BASTASA

one wonders, at times, in the middle of
(nowhere)

of the room, where books scatter like chairs
after a wild party, that class reunion after


25 long years, (back to the main point)
of wonder, when pushed at the edge,

whether, the things done, year after year,
polishing each, like old shoes that do not break

priding of their crocodile skins, are right
correct, and justified, whether the conclusions

arrived at are, true, useful, and normally
good, one lays his head against the tip

of the easy chair, supports the neck with both
hands and look at the ceiling for answers that

do not come out easily, but appear like lizards
still waiting for their cockroach and favorite mosquitoes,

this office has mosquitoes and cockroaches,
and, as the answers are not ready made, but

slimy like fishes on the river Kwai, one stares like
a blank wall, eyes closed later, fall into sleep and

dream.