Sandman

I lie down to sleep
thinking of order.
In the morning I’ll mop,
the socks need folding,
beat down the carpet.
Must keep these in mind.

This paying mind
keeps me from sleep;
the fur on the carpet,
the flowers to order,
fears unfolding—
the urge to mop

takes over. Must mop.
Tie down the mind,
focus on folding
sheets in my sleep.
Use baking soda in order
To properly clean the carpet.

Undo the spout and carpet
the floor with the dancing mop
to keep the tiles in order
at the back of my mind
stored in neat rows, they sleep
as the sheets start unfolding.

Fears are sheep jumping, homes folding,
boss sits cross-legged on a flying carpet
while I take notes, it’s early, I wipe sleep
from my eyes with socks, and the guests mop
up brain gravy with toast points and don’t mind
the smell of male goat and the boys stars order

the girls stars to shine to better shine in order
to keep their celestial bodies from wolf unfolding
and the moon from losing her blue-dotted mind
in the furry swirls of Persian carpet;
and Sandman roughly calms the sobbing mop
to a drip drop sleep, zzz, hush, Lovely, sleep.

Hush the carpet,
the mop.
Sleep.

Haleh Hatami