Cranefly

Don't sleep, and you can grow friends.

Don't sleep, and you can curl up with the sparks underneath the stairs.

Thin martyrs in the wine cellar;

they never follow what is happening in the news anymore.

I know you're tired,

but this is how you talk to your fossilised boy forgot haunting.

When pity loses its alphabet,

when longing can't get lost in the walls.

I know that you're tired, but you've got to stay awake;

let him throw a few things around.

I know you're tired, but you've got to let your ghost vent some steam.

Long haul eidesis: thoughts bend.

Long haul, hyaline jitters fleck the roots of exhausted nerves.

So long since you had real sleep.

So long, and though you feel your soul is a disease,

you'll survive.

It’s just what happens if you don't let him out.

Your fossilised boy forgot haunting.

When pity loses its alphabet,

when longing can't get lost in the walls.

I know you're so tired, but you've got to stay awake;

 let him throw a few things around.

I know that you're so tired.

Well if you're so tired, let me run around tomorrow.

Well if you're so tired, let me run around your home.)

Just let the boy outside and let him find his own way back home.

Just let the boy outside and let him find his own way back

HOME is where “forgive me” will never cast a shadow on to the wall.

When you let him come upstairs,

he'll write his name in burning letters ten foot high on the wall.

Don't sleep,

and you can permeate the sod with your rolling eye.

Crush furniture to matchwood.

Don't sleep, and you can call the lightning,

grinding teeth to the earth, to the earth.

Let him out then put him back,

go to sleep now,

Sleep now.