Sometimes at night
my vision
will spin even
though I'm lying still
staring up
at the dark
ceiling of my room.

These are the times I can't sleep,
and I'm craving
cigarettes and chocolate milk
splashed
together in midnight haze.

These are the times
when I crush
the already crumpled receipt
for the unused rail ticket,
purchased months back,
to Boston...
thirteen hours away
and gone.

© Jonathan Dumas, 2006 (all rights reserved)