Sleep

Every night the same thief— I lie awake waiting for him. I have a stout club with his name on it. Well, O.K., it’s a stick. Well, really it’s a rooster that never moves. And what good is that? The thief steals in & leaves me with out. He takes my radio & leaves me with the static. Nothing but a full bladder can save me— but by then I want nothing more than to relax my grip.