Sleepless Nights

Indyweek_durham I wrote a poem called that years ago.  The subtitle (I rarely use those) is "Reading Nijinski’s Diaries."  I first read them when I was at Iowa.  It’s been many years since I’ve revisited them though.

Tonight I couldn’t sleep and the baby is only responsible for the first hour.  The rest, I must take ownership for them myself.  Apparently I left the cat outside overnight, which I never ever do.  She’s fifteen and diabetic.  Maybe I was hearing her cry too.

Is there a connection between poetry and insomnia?  Who writes the poetry of insomnia?  Is there a kind of creativity that is only possible at 4 a.m.?


I like to think about the sculpture by Alberto Giacometti called "The Palace at 4 a.m."  I read about it years before I actually saw it, and when I saw it finally it was so much smaller than I had imagined.  It makes me wonder, where’s the pterodactyl when I look out my window?


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