Flower of Insomnia

The flower of my insomnia
blossoms on the back of a clock
it grows in the soil of a family cancer
it flowers like I’m buried alive
as though a heavy snowfall
thaw to bright air and exhale its pain
a shred of rest wavering in spirit wind
the flower of my insomnia
a Venus flytrap for my blood cells
feeding my anxiety back to me
my night inspiration and inward light
that lack a season
the Queen of flowers
the white rose of the black hours
the death mask of Keats with petals open

Ode to Keats

This living hand
This empty hand
This knife hand
This hand with gun
This sea creature
This open fist
And feeding bird
This leaf that falls
This cancerous glove
And budding flower
This bare-knuckle fighter
This harvester
And water bearer