COVERS At five in the morning the catalyst is geese. Shades drawn: ignore the calling, Lost in pillowed insulation. Nothing sends me flying or ironing sheets or screaming. Nothing makes me get dressed. Sometimes I don't get dressed until seven. I stare at the too-bright screen for hours and think about doing my laundry. I could take a pill but then I'd sleep too late. I could get up but I'd be a terror. This way I have something to talk about. If I fall back asleep it's not worth it. It's just what's happened again. I woke up. I fell asleep. I found myself unable to sustain a cycle. Too bad I like lullabies, the glides and strains. Written in 2007. Poetry