monday 01.05

Good morning from my cubicle. I will go out into the backyard soon and light a cirgarette and smoke and think and then if I still am not tired, possibly think some more, tell a joke to myself and then force my head to the pillow.

It is early on mayday and I still cannot sleep or refus to, either way I am wake and thinking. The new medicine, the one to 'make' me sleep, the one I will ask about on wednesday, the one that might be anti-psychotic, and I clearly stated: NO ANTI PSYCHOTICS, has yet to work and I remain alert whle the others rest.

Mayday. We had a may pole once, when I was young, quite young. And we each had to chose a color and we listened to music and sang the lyrics the teachers' chose and danced (I refused) around the pole with colored streamers and sometimes the streamers broke and the we stopped dancing and the wind blew the reminents of our color down the hill and everyone else laughed.

Mayday. We gave candy and flowers that we pulled from neighbors beds to neighbors we knew. We knocked on the door, with force and anxiety of being caught and screamed happy May day, as we shifted the opposite direction and ran, leaving behind a basket and laughter, so much laughter. ...