Dan Garcia-Black
SLEEP, BABY, SLEEP
A car alarm is crying in the distance.
Cop car siren speeds close
then fades away wailing.
the slow sound of dribbling water
refills the toilet tank.
The neighbors in apartment 2
start arguing again.
A truck rumbles heavily
down a nearby alley.
I listen to my heart beat in my ears
replaced by the sound of
helicopter blades hovering over my bed.
Somewhere blocks away
a confused cock crows.
Somebody buy him a clock.
It’s four AM for Christ's sake!
Now, it’s 6.
and the shower starts in the room
next door.
These are the musical tones
Brahms could not have imagined,
sung to me by the city ,
that keeps me awake
all night once again.
Just then the oldies station
radio alarm blasts on, Beatles singing,
“Good Day Sunshine, Good Day Sunshine!”
I close my eyes to rest just a minute
before getting up to dress for work
attentively listening to the daylong cadenza
warning me of tomorrow night’s
coming L.A. Bedlam Lullaby.
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