You could power the city’s

electrical grid with your personal dynamism.

You are awake, present, ferociously excited,

fascinated by everything.

Mania sneaks up on you like Tequila.

You’re Maria in The Sound of Music, twirling.

The idea that sleeping is a waste

creeps in. You are fully dressed,

wearing galoshes, crumpled on a chair

in front of the droning TV, absorbing the sunrise.

Muddled, you can’t sleep, not even

by the TV not even a catnap—

you’re in deep space

now. You call your boyfriend, 3 AM

Do you want to break up with me?

Somebody is moving and hiding things

in your home, creating piles of detritus, unpaid

bills, medication. A sprite

hides your drink between sips.

You tumble through weeks

until self-preservation finally makes

an appearance. When you see

constant alarm on loved one’s faces,

fearful for your cognition.

Once the chaotic energy has wrung

you dry, a weird clarity

emerges. Shaking a fist

at a careless God.

Mania was published by NōD Magazine, Issue #27, Summer 2021