Uneasy Lies the Head that Wears the Corona

It isn’t just the my right eyelid twitches

Or that sleep is a rumour started by people

Who could probably be found snoring standing

Up or in the middle of lunch or by the roadside

In ditches. It isn’t even that I don’t enjoy

Making Nonograms fifteen by fifteen in bed

At 2am or 4 or somewhere in between. It’s also

Not a huge deal that that my eyes get heavy and 

I sometimes collapse headfirst into a meal. It’s

Just that sleep is supposed to knit the raveled sleeve

Of care and maybe its twiddling the knitting needles

Over its thumbs because it can’t find the wool 

Of the lamb that is worried threadbare.


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