Week #15 – Sleep

Ri-chan by Guy Yasko

Dimension #4 by Dorothee Lang

There are dogs howling that night, pulling her awake when all she wants is to stay asleep. There is something else outside, too, at least that’s how it feels when she stands at the window and looks into the dark. The dogs still linger when she lays down again and drifts back to the land of night, into a dream that isn’t from a place she’s been to before.In the dream, she is with three others. They stand in the middle of a vast, desert landscape. In a distance, there is one single building, huge, with a glass dome in the middle. They walk up to the building, and enter through the open gate. Inside, it’s silence. They walk around, looking for someone, for something to give them a clue. But all the rooms are empty. It feels like walking through the empty halls of a civilization that has faded, without a trace: endless floors of nothingness.

Finally, they reach the glass dome. There are tables underneath it, with a view to the dome, and to the different levels of the building. They take a seat. It feels like being in a solar cafe, only that there is no one else.

Later, people appear. They pass their table without saying a word. As if they couldn’t see them, couldn’t notice them. As if they were in the same place, but in another dimension, or another dream.

Living Forever in Bright Olympus by Kelly Grotke

Ah, but they are stubborn, these two. She sat at the river’s edge and began to fold the piece of paper she’d carried down, over and once more and just another time will be enough but no, so again and again until it was as small and silent as it was ever going to be. And then there was nothing more to do.

She threw it into the water.

The mind is such a libertine when it pleases. Were there two? Because it was only one who had written. No, there must be two, certainly two. How else to explain the discord, and then this endless stream of stories.

Not that she read them anymore, now the rituals had begun.

Because the words recalled dark chaos and sometimes even a single one was too much like the sun going down and this confused her sense of time and meaning. Yes, two of them. It had to be. To think otherwise would be to imagine something divided against itself, and that was no longer possible.

She lay back smiling in the grass, fingered the long scar on her thigh, and waited for sleep.

Sleep by Darryl Price




Cause-Effect-Cause by Bernard Heise

Sleep. I can’t.
Alcohol – much too much.
Drinking began yesterday.
Crashed car and burned house.
You left.
I destroyed
everything. Everything
destroyed. I
left you.
House burned and car crashed
yesterday. Began drinking
much too much alcohol.
can’t I sleep?

Armstrong Lust by Steven Stucko

I saw Buzz Aldrin’s penis last year [average]. We were at adjacent urinals at Foxwoods casino, struck up a conversation and decided to have a drink: soda (we’re both sober). It was hard not to be all gee-whizzy and gush a thousand questions as we saluted green cheese (he: lol), we settled in and he indulged me a few. Yes they did have Tang. Yes, all their food came in tubes, and no, he wasn’t scared. Apparently, one can not pass gas in space, a fact (he offered!) which I found gross -TMI Buzz.

I told him about the koi fish pond I dug in Vermont and he shared about his bonsai woes. He said I should check out his rap song with Snoop Doggy Dogg; I thought he was joking but no – go Google it. I told him I had a crush on Neil Armstrong. He said: “We all did.” He signed a few autographs but I gave people the evil-eye and they stayed away.

I asked Buzz if he regretted anything about his monumental voyage and he said: “Sleep.” He told me he was up for over forty hours and was getting delusional. “Houston wouldn’t let me sleep!”

We shook hands and he fake walked away like he was kind of bouncing in low gravity (me: lol). Now whenever I stare at the moon I think how my man Buzz just wanted a tube of Oreos and a tube of milk and a little nap.

2 Shards by Stephen Hastings-King


Part of an arrangement of trapezoids and triangles, lines and loops I move across the water.

The sky is a field of cracks. Pieces come loose and fall. Some land on the deck.

Nearby string musicians play the same chord again and again. They sing the same phrase again and again. Something about a spirit. Their heads are turned away.

Beyond the holes in the sky is a map of the stars.


Asleep on a schooner dreaming I am on a schooner. A transistor radio below sprays an ant colony of voices, an everywhere haze of tiny grey lines. I move through its eddies and flows, dead spots and gardens. My movements open environments.

There is a trajectory painted on the grass: I follow it along a long white rail fence that separates one pasture from another. At the end of the fence a small solar panel, its edges an intermittent painted frame around an assemblage of irregular forms suspended in electric blue amber.

When I correlate the forms they give way to aspects of a ghost room. Packages of continuity piled and numbered and noted. Schematics on the walls and tables. I wait for its surfaces to stabilize and spread myself across them like rain.


Back to Wk #14 – Fancy Me

Forward to Wk #16 – Busy at work

One Response to “Week #15 – Sleep

  1. Stephen,

    ‘Armstrong Lust’ just struck me as something real, I could imagine the conversation and camaraderie. Nice one!

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