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
Myna Wallin, Toronto poet and prose writer, was recently published in The Antigonish Review, Vallum Magazine, The Quarantine Review, NōD Magazine, Sledgehammer Literary Magazine, and The Miramichi Reader, among others. Upcoming poems will appear in EVENT Poetry & Prose. Myna has a master’s degree in English from University of Toronto. Her latest poetry collection, Anatomy of An Injury, was published by Inanna Publications in 2018. Wallin was recently longlisted for the Nick Blatchford Occasional Verse Contest!