This whole city again unconscious. Each night,

millions of dark windows and behind them

millions of strange bodies suspended in a nightly coma,

millions of strange minds suspended in the near-death 

of dreamlands.

As individuals we rise and shine 

then blank out collectively in waves. 

The bankers and teachers are all asleep now in their pajamas.

Behind the eyelids of journalists flicker the bombs of the day.

Drive further north, the nation’s farmers and milk maids 

asleep under millions of down duvets. Drive south and find 

a continent has succumbed to a coma, coming over it 

as a wave.

The earth turns, the advancing shadow washes millions of brains 

in cleansing waters, oiling millions of aches, eroding billions 

of memories. 

But holding vigil by the entrance of our darkened cave, 

the species’ truck drivers and mothers and nurses 

stare watchfully into the night. 

Wide awake.