IMOGENE’S NOTEBOOK

Drunken Conductor

A poem

Photo by Motoki Tonn on Unsplash

How can I think with this constant cascade of thoughts marching through my mind?
Pounding their snares and blaring their tubas
Never on beat
And never on time.
Because their conductor is probably drunk and asleep
somewhere inside my subconscious.
I wish I had a bucket of water,
And a cup of coffee.
To wake him up and get him sober.
So he could turn my thoughts to music.
Hopefully a lullaby
So, I might finally get some sleep.