Thursday Morning

Fitful bursts of sleep
lulled by the sound
of wind slapping
wayward rain drops
into my house.

Suddenly!
It's morning.
Hrm. Thursdays.

Dreams Can be Hazardous

forsooth a sleeping
form of a lonely
man, slumbering
across the world of
dreams on a surreal
road-trip of manic
import to the fungible
nature of The Journey.

*ALARM* *ALARM*

smell that? it is
morning.
Y-A-W-N