midnight’s plague
with a head full
of bad tunes
and
wanting to attack
the cerebral cortex
with a pair of scissors,
cutting the black squares
that keep appearing
multiplying, mutilating
in the room
that never sees sunlight
and
a clock set to midnight
repetitively
thoughts incubate
gestate
pictures from
an out-of-tune television screen
rotate, ignite
the sorry memories
spread like midnight’s plague
the constant visitation
of places without phone numbers
where the wrong moments
have left their mark
and an immune system frail,
reminder notes manifest
into death threats
macabre melodies rise
to the roof of the skull
fall into the covers
nose bleeding
midnight’s plague
taking another victim
with suggestions
like